Wolves, Lovecraft, and Remus Lupin
by wille179
Summary: Remus Lupin vaguely knew what to expect when a being that called itself a god appeared before him. An offer for a paying job wasn't on that list. It wasn't like he was employed at the moment and the job had good benefits. Too bad he had no idea what he was getting himself into. Pseudo-Lovecraftian AU, with Powerful!Remus. Mild Dumbledore bashing in early chapters.
1. Touched by a God

Remus Lupin was dreading that night. It was November 11th, 1981, and it was the night of the first full moon since James and Peter had died, and since Sirius had betrayed them and subsequently been arrested. It would be the first time he had to face the wolf alone in nearly a decade, and worse, he knew it would be a very long time, if ever, that someone would join him on his romp through the woods.

He rolled the flask in his hands. The sun was setting soon, meaning that the change was imminent. He wondered if he should even take his wolfsbane potion tonight; without Lily brewing it for him, there was no way he would be able to afford more anyway, so why not just go ahead and surrender to the monster now?

The solid thuds on his cabin's door awoke him from his moody haze. That had sounded like how Hagrid knocked, but why would he be here right now? Remus stood, leaving the potion flask behind on his desk. He crept towards his door, urged into a defensive stance with his wand drawn by his war-born paranoia.

"I hope that you don't mind that I let myself in."

Unlike Sirius, Moony would at least admit that he screamed. He whirled around and pointed his wand at the figure sitting on his couch. Then he blinked, realizing that it was only a young boy. He wasn't familiar with the boy, though, and the boy _had_ broken in, so Remus kept his wand at the ready.

"I like that you're cautious, Remus, but I'm a friend." The boy stood and started walking lazily towards the werewolf.

"Who are you? No, never mind. Get out right now!"

The green-eyed, black haired boy merely smiled. "Relax, Remus. I know about your furry little problem, and I can promise you that you can't hurt me. As for who I am... Let just say that people see me as someone important to them, even if they don't know it yet. It's probably a good idea to memorize my face."

"Look, just go away, please?" Remus said. The aches were getting stronger now, telling him that it was almost time. "Any other time, really. Just go away right now. _Please_. I'm about to change and I haven't had my potion."

" **STOP."** Silence filled the air. The boy's word had been spoken with such power, even the world itself obeyed. On the mantle, Moony's clock no longer ticked, and in his heart, the wolf no longer stirred. "Now you have all the time you need, so **LISTEN."**

A wave of power crashed down upon Remus, pinning him in place and making him feel like his soul was about to implode. Even You-Know-Who didn't make him feel this way.

"Right now, you're realizing that I am no ordinary human. You are correct in that regard. I am a god, and I am naming you my champion. Do as I command, and you will be handsomely rewarded. Fail me, and you get nothing. Punishing you defeats the purpose — you must choose this willingly. Further, I will never order you to take a life; you certainly may if it aids in your task, but I will never order it. Do you understand."

Remus did. He couldn't not; the power was shoving the words into his brain and forcing him to understand them and believe them. "Yes," he said.

"Good. Now, normally, I would let you choose your payment for any task, but tonight, the task I offer you is different. The payment is set, and will be given upfront. Then I will give you the task, at which point you can accept or reject the task. If you reject the task, you will not lose this gift; it is yours to keep. However, you will lose all chances for future rewards." The godly child walked up to Remus and put his hand on the werewolf's chest. "Do you understand?"

"Yes," Remus found himself saying.

"Good. Remus, this will be uncomfortable." Moony didn't have time to process that before a pulse of raw magic slammed into his stomach. His vision faded to black.

* * *

Remus awoke in a grassy field, at night, completely naked. Normally, waking up like that would have happened _after_ sunrise, not before. He also should have been sore, but he wasn't. Well, _most_ of him wasn't sore; he had an erection, and it was painfully hard.

He covered his groin with his hands, although there was literally nobody around to see him. Then he awkwardly stood, focused on his home, and then twisted in place. Nothing else happened. "Bloody hell, anti-apparition wards?"

There was a growl behind him. Remus turned his head just enough to see the massive wolf growling at him from only a few feet away.

Remus panicked. He ran.

Behind him, the wolf leaped.

Its claws sank into his back. Its teeth dug into his neck. Agony exploded in his mind. Remus fell to the ground, the wolf still atop him.

There was a flash of silver. Suddenly, the pain was gone, but the taste of blood filled Remus's mouth. He swallowed reflexively, causing the heat from the liquid to spread to his entire body. A haze slowly descended upon his mind, but not before he realized where he was: _he_ was now atop the wolf, fingers clawing into _its_ back and teeth biting into _its_ neck.

He swallowed more blood, causing the hazy heat to intensify. The smell of the wolf filled Remus's nostrils. His groin rubbed against the wolf's fur, causing him to thrust reflexively. A wave of pleasure filled him, causing him to thrust again. The wolf below him twisted, causing Remus to suddenly find himself inside the wolf, though this drove his hazy mind into a lustful frenzy.

As Remus forced himself on the captive beast, a change started occurring in both of them. Remus's head, hands, hips, and legs started sinking into the wolf, while in the wolf, those corresponding parts grew in size and strength. Meanwhile, the reverse was happening with the torso and forelegs/forearms, with the wolf's being absorbed into Remus's.

The two beings, now a single entity, howled as pleasure shook their combined body. Almost instantly, the haze started lifting, and with it came a radical change in their collective mind. Separate, a wolf can easily shred a human, but together in mind, the fusion's human portions crushed the wolf's mind into a fine paste and absorbed it.

Remus Lupin stood in his new body. Though he stood on two powerful legs, they were the legs of a wolf. The wolf's tail swished behind his back. His torso and forearms were still human, but with the wolf inside, his muscles bulged with raw power. His hands had warped into furry claws, yet they retained a human level of dexterity. And his head, though wolflike in shape, could do everything a wolf and a human could do, combined.

* * *

Remus awoke again. He was back in his cottage, fully clothed, and lying on the floor. The sun was streaming through his window. It took a second for Remus to understand the implications, but came to realize that he hadn't transformed, despite the full moon.

"You're awake, good."

Remus picked himself off the floor to face the child god. "What happened...?"

" **Remember."**

The memories of the night before and the strange dream came crashing back to him, clearer than he had ever remembered recalling something before. "What was that?"

"That was your inner world, plus your mind's interpretation of what I was actually doing to your soul. That was the spirit of the wolf that tried month after month, year after year, to maul your friends to death. That flash was me, permanently strengthening your soul and giving you the opportunity to dominate instead. And that was you that absorbed the wolf's power and destroyed its mind.

"So here's what happened: I forced you to fight your wolf. I gave your soul the ability to grow, potentially indefinitely, and then gave it a small boost in power. I then reversed your situation to get rid of the wolf spirit. Now, had you simply killed the wolf, you would have become a normal, if strong, human.

"Instead, you absorbed it and destroyed its mind. Its power is yours and yours alone. No longer will you be a slave to the moon or to the bloodthirsty wolf. Your bite will no longer transfer the werewolf curse, though now it will transfer what you've become instead. Your body has changed, and it will keep changing for some time yet. Investigate what you have made yourself into. Do you understand?"

Once more, Remus found himself saying yes, though not wholly against his will.

"Good," the god said once more. "Your payment is power and the freedom to act without your shackles. Your task is to act in the way you feel is best based on a specific piece of information. Do you accept?"

For the last time, Remus found himself agreeing. This time, however, it wasn't forced, even if it was somewhat reluctant. "Yes."

The god smiled. "Good, very good. Here is your information: The Potter family's last will and testament contains the truth, a clue as to what actually happened the night of their death. What you know now is false by virtue of being incomplete." Then, without warning or sound, the deity vanished, as if he'd never been there. The god left a horribly confused Remus Lupin behind.

* * *

A somewhat nauseous Remus stepped off the Knight Bus and onto a street in muggle London. Given the early hour, the normally quiet street was absolutely devoid of people, which was all the better for Remus. He walked up to the window of a seemingly abandoned warehouse and addressed the manikin inside, "I need a checkup for my magical core. It feels strange."

The manikin's head turned towards Remus. "Welcome to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. Please proceed directly to the west end of floor two, to the door marked 'Core Specialists.' Thank you, and get well soon."

Remus stepped through the glass like one might with the bricks between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross. Immediately, he wound up in the lobby of the UK's finest magical hospital. Following the instructions, he soon ended in front of the receptionist. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Before you say anything," the receptionist said, "are you in any pain, especially around your heart or the roof of your mouth?"

"No, but both areas feel very strange."

The receptionist tapped a rune on her desk, which glowed yellow for a moment. "I went ahead and called the healer; we can handle the paperwork afterward. Issues with your core, especially if it causes a physical sensation, are very serious."

The healer jogged in a second later, already drawing her wand. The receptionist pointed at Remus, and a second later, he was struck by a barrage of detection spells.

The healer's hands then dropped to her side. "Well, you're stable, at least. We have time. My name is Healer Fern Brooks. What seems to be the issue, Mr. ...?"

"Remus Lupin. I had a dream last night. I shouldn't have. I am a werewolf, and last night was the full moon. Something interrupted my normal transformation, and since then, my core has been feeling really weird and my spells have been coming out wildly. I had to take the Knight Bus here since I highly doubt that I could have apparated in this state."

"Mr. Lupin, I'm going to be honest with you, I've never heard of something like that happening. The rest of your symptoms plus what my spells told me would make me think you just jarred your core and formed an astral contusion — a bruise on you magic. But missing a werewolf transformation? I'm going to have to run a lot of tests on you, and probably call in the werewolf specialist for this one," the healer said.

Remus winced. More tests and specialist meant that it was going to cost more, and right now, he couldn't afford much. "I just want to make sure that I'm not going to die."

"Let's get you back into one of the examination rooms and I'll finish up the standard diagnostic spell battery on you." Remus followed. No less than a second after they'd entered the room, the healer's wand came back out. Spell after spell flew off her wand, while her eyes glowed as the spells revealed information to her that only she could see.

Finally, the last spell left her wand. "Well, I saw some interesting things, but I'll start with your core since that's my specialty. I'll spare you the technical jargon with this fairly good analogy: imagine your magical core as a bucket full of foam balls. You take out some balls every time you cast a spell, and your soul automatically refills it. An astral contusion basically happens when your magic is struck directly, forcing a large portion of your magic into a small portion of your core — in other words, someone squishes the balls.

"Normally, this is fine. The balls will slowly return to their original shape, and all is good. However, sometimes people with high magical regeneration rates start filling up their core with magic, only for the rest of their magic to uncompress and over-fill their core. In that case, they either leak the excess or strain their core. The latter is what happened to you. All you need to do is vent; cast a bright lumos and hold it until the discomfort fades, easy.

"Now, there were some other things of note. First, your core is ridiculously stretchy for your age. You normally don't see that sort of stretching in anyone above three. Elasticity is a sign of core growth, and a man is generally done growing by age twenty-seven."

"I'm twenty-one."

She frowned. "Well, _maybe_ this is just a really good growth year for you, but this much of an extreme is _highly_ unusual."

"Is this something I should be worried about?"

"Well, if it doesn't stop by age twenty-seven," the healer replied, "then it would be. But right now? It's something your friends should be jealous of. Between that and your high magical regeneration rate — a solid twenty percent per hour — you are going to be one hell of a powerhouse by the time your core finishes growing."

The mysterious god's words echoed in Remus's head. He'd supposedly been given the ability for his soul to grow indefinitely; was this what the god had meant? Possibly. "Anything else?" Remus asked.

"Well... To put it bluntly, you don't register as a werewolf to my spells. You are definitely _something_ not quite human, but a werewolf? I don't think so. Of course, I'm no werewolf specialist, so I can't say for sure if I'm not misreading the results of the diagnostic spells. Let's get you transferred down to Healer Smethwyck on the first floor; he's our werewolf specialist," Healer Brooks said.

She personally escorted him down a floor and to the 'Dangerous' Dai Llewellyn Ward, named after a famous quidditch player that was eaten by a chimera. The ward was in charge of all animal attack related injuries, obviously including werewolf bites. There, Healer Brooks filled in Healer Smethwyck, with a little help from Remus. Smethwyck's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he heard that, and promptly dragged Remus into another room, dismissing Healer Brooks at the same time.

This room had a large cage in the middle of it, which looked as if it had held dangerous animals for a long time. The cage door was open. "Mr. Lupin, there are a pair of tests I would like to perform. However, they are delicate, and this close to the full moon, even though it has just passed, we run the risk of forcing you to transform out of phase. That will hurt, as you can imagine. However, we cannot use pain potions since they will interfere. However, it is _highly_ unlikely that that will happen. But, just as a precaution..."

Remus stepped towards the cage. "I see. May I removed my clothes, just in case?"

"By all means. In fact, I insist."

Remus undressed and then stepped into the iron cage. The door shut behind him and the latch fell into place. "I'm ready."

The healer waved his wand, causing a bubble of golden light to form around the cage. Remus felt nothing as it passed. "Is that it?"

"No, that's just the observation spell. This is the test. _Lumos: Lunaplena."_ Moonlight erupted from the tip of the healer's wand and illuminated Remus's body. Remus felt a tingle, but nothing else, and he didn't transform.

The golden bubble and the moonlight both faded away. "Sorry about that. The moonlight from the charm isn't as potent as the real thing; if you knew it was coming, you could have fought the change. I couldn't have that happening. Again, sorry."

Remus, now somewhat shaken, swallowed the lump in his throat. "I didn't change, though."

"Your core twitched, but that was about it. So, I think congratulations are in order: Mr. Lupin, I can say with complete honesty that you are _not_ a werewolf."

Remus took a second to process that. Then he whooped with delight. "Yes! Haha! This is amazing! Thank you, thank you!" He suddenly looked the old healer directly in the eye. "Can I get that in writing?"

"Of course. Now, there was one other test I would like to do. Actually, there are a ton of tests I want to do on you to satisfy my curiosity, but there's only one right now that actually pertains to your health directly. You aren't a werewolf, but you are something not entirely human. Let's see what you are." A teal spell shot out of his wand, impacting Remus's head.

Heat erupted throughout Remus's body. Then, with the sensation of having a stiff joint suddenly loosened by a masseuse, the ex-werewolf transformed into the fusion beast from his dream. He also slammed his head on the top of the cage, having shot up to nearly eight feet in height.

The healer whistled his amazement. "Dear Merlin... What do we have here?"

"I wish I knew," Remus said. "I turned into this during my dream last night."

Healer Smethwyck's smile widened by a hair's breadth. "Mr. Lupin, the amounts of magic in our bodies and minds at all times means that every thought we have is significant; unlike in muggles, dreams often can provide us with real, practical information. Tell me _exactly_ what happened last night, and leave nothing out. I can tell you're holding something back."

Remus hesitated for a moment, unsure if he should mention his visitor from the night before.

"Might I remind you that I am oathbound to never reveal information about my patients to anyone they do not approve of. Might I also remind you that I am bound to help you, regardless of who you are or what you did. Please, Mr. Lupin, tell me what happened."

So Remus told him, and the healer listened. Occasionally, Smethwyck would ask a clarifying question or two but mostly listened in silence. When Remus mentioned the flash of light in the dream, the healer's face morphed into an expression of shock, and then understanding. The moment Remus finished, literally half an instant after the last syllable left his tongue, the healer turned, opened the door, and shouted, " _Accio Treating Magical Curses, Vol. 7!"_

The book shot in at a blistering speed, slamming into the healer and knocking him to the floor. He picked himself and the book up, then began flipping through it. He read a passage, his grin threatening to split his face in half. Then, with great jubilation, he shouted, "Eureka!" Then he blushed. "I've always wanted to say that. No, but thank you, Mr. Lupin. You've given me inspiration for a possible way to cure lycanthropy!"

The still transformed and still naked Remus blinked. "Did I really?"

"Yes! Well, we still have to iron out the details and test it, but this could work!" Healer Smethwyck exclaimed. "It might end up turning people into whatever you are — still need to figure that part out — but you're clearly in control of yourself and you aren't affected by moonlight at all! That's an improvement if I've ever seen one! Oh, Merlin, this is brilliant!"

"Healer? Um, could you change me back?"

"Hm? Oh! Actually, if I'm not mistaken, you might be able to shift your form by will alone. Some werewolves could do that whenever they wanted, excluding full moon nights. I don't see why you shouldn't be able to do so either," the healer replied. "Give it a go."

Remus tapped into his magic the same way he would when preparing to apparate. However, instead of going somewhere, he focused on being human. With the sensation of a muscle pulling tight, his body began to shrink and revert to human. However, though he shrank back as much as he could, it still wasn't all the way back to where he should have been. His muscles were still bigger than they used to be, his chest and legs were still hairier than they had been, and he was about two inches taller.

"Excellent! Now, does that cause you pain? No? Good. I want you to practice that. Shift between forms until it feels comfortable and natural; that will help stabilize your magic a bit. I also want you to come back in a week, if possible. Mr. Lupin, if I'm right, you and I could save many, many lives."

"That is utterly fantastic!" Remus replied. "The best news I've received in a long, long time."

The healer was, in fact, correct. By the time Remus had come back, the healer had completed his procedure. It involved forcing a transformation, hitting the person with a confundus charm just before the transformation took hold, and then injecting their core with magic. They had already tried it on four witches and a young wizard, and all of them had been cured. The oldest witch had taken three tries, at four hours a try, while the younger ones had success more quickly; the boy and the youngest witch had taken barely a minute. In every case, they imagined themselves fighting the wolves; with the women, they had slain their wolves and subsequently returned to being fully human, while the boy had absorbed his wolf and become a creature like Remus.

Remus and Smethwyck eventually named the new form the _lycomorph_ form, while wizards and witches who had it were called a _lycomorphmagus_. This was to match the terms _metamorphmagus_ and _animagus._ Shortly after that, the _Daily Prophet_ hailed ran the headline, " **EX-WEREWOLF AND HEALER FIND CURE FOR LYCANTHROPY,** " which hailed Lupin and Smethwyck as heroes. The news also pushed articles about Harry Potter further back in the paper.

A pattern started emerging with those receiving the Lupin-Smethwyck treatment. Young werewolves, those fifteen and under, almost universally absorbed their wolves, becoming lycomorphmagi. Yet those older than fifteen almost universally ceased being werewolves altogether, which made Remus something of an outlier. Remus didn't know or care about any of that, though. After he'd been pronounced healthy and told the healers about his observations on his new form, Remus fell back to his gloom.

His friends were either dead or in jail and he was still alone. That was about to change, but he didn't know it yet.


	2. Investigation

Remus snarled, turned, and started stomping away from the goblin. Remus suspected that as merely a friend of the family, he would be in no legal position to ask about getting the Potter will read, but he'd never imagined that the wizarding government would _seal_ the will. "Though Gringotts has copies of the will for its own records, we can neither give you an official copy nor can we execute the will while it is sealed," the goblin had told him.

Remus had taken exactly six steps when he suddenly stopped on a dime. He spun on his heel and retraced those six steps. "Answer me this: one, who _specifically_ sealed the will, and two, how can I go about getting an _unofficial_ copy of the Potter will?"

For a second, Remus imagined a shark in place of the ferally-grinning goblin. "One, Albus Dumbledore, and two, pay eight galleons at that desk over there."

Remus was surprised when Dumbledore's name came up. He'd have to talk with the man later about that. Remus assumed that the man had his reasons for it, but it _did_ seem a little out of character.

The ex-werewolf went over to the desk, paid the mildly hefty price, and was on his way with the unofficial will ten minutes later. He left the will unopened in his robe's pocket until after he was at a table at Fortescue's with a chocolate sundae — he was afraid of what he would find, and out of habit, he went for chocolate rather than fire whiskey when he needed to calm his nerves. Spoon currently held in his mouth, he tore open the envelope and started reading the last will and testament of his best friend and the man's wife.

His eyes greedily scoured the document, not searching for what, if anything, he had gotten from them. No, what he was searching for was something that would give him closure. Unfortunately, no such closure was to be found. If anything, the letter tore open Remus's heart once more.

It seemed that Lily and James had filed a new version of their joint will just before going into hiding — as in literally the day of their withdrawal from society. It detailed that they intended to replace that will if they ever came out of hiding and that this particular one would thus only come into effect if they were betrayed. Worse, they said that they were under the fidelius charm with _Peter_ as their secret keeper, not Sirius. The only way they would ever have died is if Peter betrayed them.

Remus's jaw clenched. The metal spoon in his mouth snapped under the intense pressure, but Remus hardly noticed. His appetite was gone anyway. In his hands was proof that an innocent man was currently in Azkaban. Mercifully, it seemed that the traitor was dead, but that was little consolation for the ex-werewolf, who was snarling and growling to himself.

He crumpled up the letter, shoved it into his pocket, spat out the scoop of the broken spoon, and threw the rest of his ice cream away. Then, with a twirl, he disapparated from Diagon Alley.

He materialized in the Ministry of Magic's entranceway with his emotions so chaotic that even he couldn't decipher them all. Raw magic poured off of him in waves, tickling the magics of those around him in a rather unpleasant way. His hold on his human form had loosened, causing him to grow a few inches in height and take on a slightly more predatory appearance.

He had to wait a bit in line get his visitor's badge and find out where he needed to go. This did nothing to help his emotions, and if anything, the delay made him irritated on top of everything else he was feeling. He _may_ have snarled a bit at the poor bloke at the desk, and he may have snapped at a group of witches blocking his way, but they all screamed like he was about to bite their heads off.

When he stepped onto an elevator, most of the other witches and wizards found an excuse to step off, leaving him alone with a woman he vaguely recognized. She was clutching her wand tightly. "What floor?"

"Second."

"Convenient," she replied. "And... do you mind calming down a bit? Your magic is making me feel quite uncomfortable."

Remus blinked. "What? Oh, bollocks." He reeled his magic back in and reverted his partial transformation. "I leaked magic like that in years. I'm _so_ sorry."

"I find that vigorous exercise helps with that immensely," she said. "Remus Lupin, right? I saw you in the paper the other day."

"I... yes. That's me. You look familiar too if you don't mind me saying."

"You've probably seen me in the paper as well. Amelia Bones, Assistant-Director of the DMLE."

Remus clapped his hands together. "Ah, yes. That's it. You're up for promotion, aren't you?"

"Indeed. Now," — the elevator dinged and let them out at their destination — "can I help you with anything, or do you already know where you need to go?"

"I'm good. No, just today I stumbled across some information from my dead friends, Lily and James Potter, that strongly suggests that Sirius Black may, in fact, be innocent of betraying them to You-Know-Who. I just wanted to hand it into the Investigations Department, and to find out when his trial is so that I may testify," Remus said.

"Curious. It seems that there's more to this than meets the eye," Amelia observed. "The odd thing is, I don't know when Black's trial is either. I usually keep myself informed of these things. Well, if only to satisfy my curiosity, I'll walk you to who you need to talk to."

Remus motioned with his hand. "After you, Ma'am."

The high-ranking Auror and the ex-werewolf walked down the hall and turned through an unremarkable wooden door. Then they located a young witch filing paperwork. "Ms. Fairchild, would you please find me the file for Sirius Black's arrest?"

"Certainly." The skinny witch twirled around and practically dove into the filing cabinets. A moment later, she had a folder in hand. "Here you go, Madam Bones."

"Thank you. Now, let's see..." She flipped through the documents. "Odd... where is the scheduled hearing form?"

"The what?" Remus asked.

"It's a form that lists when the preliminary court hearing is supposed to be. Usually, they're made within eight hours of an arrest, and the first hearing must be within three weeks of the arrest," Madam Bones said. "Fairchild, did the paper fall out?"

"I don't think so," the woman replied. "I'm pretty sure that the folders are enchanted to keep things from spilling accidentally. I'll check anyway." She stuck her head back into the filing cabinet. "No, I don't see it. It looks like it was either never included, or somebody removed it. But I'm the only one with access to these files, and I didn't take it, and I can't remember anyone else ta—"

Fairchild stopped mid sentence. She picked her wand up off her desk and aimed it at her head. " _Memorias invenire!_ " Her wand glowed an ominous red.

Remus wasn't familiar with that spell, but Madam Bones was. Her wand was out in a heartbeat and aimed at her own head. She cast the same spell as her secretary, and her wand glowed the same foul red. "Bugger me sideways. _Sonorus._ **AURORS, OBLIVIATION CHECK, NOW!** " Canceling the spell, Amelia turned to Remus, who was clutching his ears. "Sorry. Remus, come back later. Missing paperwork is one thing, but when I and the woman in charge of said paperwork have also been obliviated..."

"I'll see myself out."

Amelia grabbed his shoulder, preventing his departure. "Remus, do me a favor. In three days, write me a letter specifically asking about Black's trial. Use two different colors of ink and say that your first inkwell went dry; that's my passcode for this month. If I see that letter and I can't remember telling you this, I will know that something is up. Call me paranoid, but my gut tells me someone wants Black gone. Also, keep a journal and read it every night."

Remus gulped. "I will. Thank you for the advice."

"Be safe."

* * *

Three days later, Remus sent the letter. Almost immediately, a patronus came, which told him in Amelia Bones's voice that he should report to the DMLE immediately. When he arrived, Amelia greeted him personally by grasping his hand with both of hers. He felt something hard press against the palm of his hand. "Thank you so much for _keeping this discreet._ We stumbled across something big, and we're well on our way to getting it all resolved, thanks to you." She let his hand go. Remus pocketed the item without looking at it. "We cannot tell you anything more at this time about it, but the DMLE would like to thank you for your assistance."

"I'm glad to help," he said, though he didn't really know what he had helped with or how much he'd actually helped.

"Also, as of yesterday, Sirius Black's trial was scheduled for November twenty-ninth. He has been transferred from Azkaban to ministry protective custody. Every precaution is being taken to assure that he does not escape and that he reaches his trial unharmed," Amelia said.

"That's good. Amelia, I have a question. Two, actually. First, might I visit him?" Remus asked.

"No, but you may send him a letter. Note that it will be inspected beforehand, and can be used as evidence in the trial by both sides. I wouldn't say more than _hello_ , if I were you," replied Amelia.

"I see. I won't even bother right now." Remus waved his hand dismissively. "Secondly, I never got around to handing over my evidence for his case. That's not my question, though. My question is, if I happen to have an _unofficial_ copy of the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter, given to me by Gringotts, and the official one is sealed by Albus Dumbledore as head of the Wizengamot, would either version be admissible in the trial?"

"May I see it?" Amelia asked.

Remus held up the crumpled letter. " _Gemino_ ," the Assistant-Director incanted. She caught the duplicate copy as it fell to the ground. "Thank you. No, an unofficial copy is not permitted. However, in cases of criminal activity, an unofficial copy is more than enough to get a warrant for an official copy. It won't be unsealed, so the will won't be executed, but it _can_ be used."

"That's all I ask for," Remus said.

"Remus, expect a letter from Black's defense in a few days," Amelia added. "They'll want to interview you before you officially testify."

* * *

Remus sat down in his favorite chair at home. He pulled the little object Amelia had given him from his pocket. It was a box with the words _unshrink me_ written on one side. Remus tapped it with his wand and wound up with a box roughly the size of his head. He opened it.

Inside, there was a quill floating with its tip pressed against a mostly-filled piece of parchment. "What?" he asked nobody. The quill transcribed his question. Remus looked over everything it had written so far, which turned out to be an entire transcript of everything he'd said and heard since Amelia had given him the box, all labeled by the speaker's name.

The first entry was different, in that he hadn't heard it himself. It read, _"Remus, someone has been regularly obliviating Aurors and manipulating our paperwork. I cannot say who, but they are the same person who has been trying to deny Sirius Black a trial._

" _For the sake of your memories, I ask you to avoid people as much as you can and look nobody in the eye. One of my fresh recruits also created the technique you just saw; namely, wearing a shrunken, self-inking dicta-quill and parchment. We also use the protean charm to make duplicates the event that one of ours is lost. This is so that we can identify who was with us at the time we lost our memories and potentially our attacker's name._

" _I wrote this message the day before I will first attempt to arrange a meeting with you, the day the date of the trial was officially decided. If I told you some date other than November 29th, my memories have been altered again."_

Here, Remus stopped reading to go check the notes the quill had written. November 29th was correct.

" _I really hope that this bastard can be brought to justice. To my dismay, I suspect that this will not happen anytime soon. Regardless, keep yourself safe so that we may see justice served._

" _~Amelia Bones,_

" _Assistant-Director of the DMLE."_

Remus slumped back in his chair. Exhaustion set in. He'd just gotten out of a war with a Dark Lord, he didn't need this. At least with the Death Eaters, their M.O. was predictable and their goals were obvious. This was a total unknown.

* * *

In the days leading up to the trial of Sirius Black, Remus made an effort to completely drop off the map. Considering that he didn't exactly have a stable job at the moment (though he did have some hobbies that made him money sporadically), it was disappointingly easy. His inner Gryffindor wanted something like what one would find in the James Bond movies (which Lily had loved). Instead, his inner Slytherin made him take a far more pragmatic approach, namely that each morning, he pulled out a map of the UK and threw a dart at it. Whatever city or area it landed in would be the city he used that day.

Today's dart throw landed him in Hampstead, near London. It wasn't exactly as far as he wanted to go, but he trusted the randomness of his poor dart aim. Using the apparition network, he was able to blindly jump there and land in a safe, designated area, which he immediately jogged away from.

He wandered around for a bit, then asked directions from a muggle for a local gym. Amelia had suggested working out, and it wasn't like he had anything else to do that day. He couldn't just stay cooped up in his house all day long; he'd go mad. At least he didn't have to think about anything while his body was burning from physical exertion.

As he walked out, the muggle woman at the front desk said, "Wait... I'm not crazy, right? I could have sworn you weren't that beefy when you came in."

Remus looked down at himself, realizing that he'd let his other form slip out a bit. That would be _really_ bad if it happened in a muggle area. "Well, I _did_ have a good workout. But for something like that to happen, it would take a bit of magic. Hah! Thank you, though." The lycomorph walked out with a parting wave. Picking his direction at random, he walked left.

He'd barely gone two blocks when he realized that there was somebody walking next to him, a small, familiar boy. "Hello again, Remus Lupin. Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Not really," he replied. "But I am alive."

"I see that," the god replied. "I have two pieces of news, both good. First, you've done well so far on your first task. I am pleased."

Remus hummed in a 'that's nice' sort of way.

"Second, I have another task for you, one that's also very simple. Payment will, of course, be up to you to decide after the fact. That said, your payment can only affect you directly, and must be made selfishly. If others happen to benefit indirectly..." The god trailed off. "Anyway, your next task is this: Directly ahead of us, there is a family consisting of a man and a woman, both six years older than you, and their two-year-old daughter. The parents are muggles, the daughter is a witch. In about three minutes, she's going to have her first bout of significant accidental magic. Her parents will scream, which will scare her in return, causing the girl to have a second, larger burst of magic. This second one will summon the local Obliviation Squad. Here is your choice: Accept and help them, or walk away and reject my offer."

Remus didn't need even debate the offer. It wasn't even about the reward. He'd just been told that a child needed help, and he'd be damned if he didn't offer his assistance. The ex-werewolf glanced down at where the god had been and was unsurprised to see that he was no longer there.

Quickening his pace to a light jog, he approached the family. Neither the husband nor the woman, who was carrying her daughter in a baby backpack carrier, noticed the grumpy expression on the two-year old's face. The woman certainly noticed the toddler pulling on her hair, though. "Hermione, let go of mummy's hair."

"No! Tired!"

"Hermione..."

"No!" The toddler promptly burst into flames.

Remus had his wand out in a heartbeat but had to stop his casting of a water-conjuring charm when he realized that the child wasn't screaming and that the flames were only an illusion. A _finite incantum_ did the trick instead. It was about that moment that the father registered what he'd seen out of the corner of his eyes. "Bloody hell, what was that?"

"A young witch's magic can be quite petulant when she's in a sour mood, wouldn't you say? Next time, she'll be attacking you with flying toys for not giving her sweets fast enough," Remus said as he stepped up to them. Twirling his wand, he conjured a few floating orbs of light before transfiguring them into butterflies that landed on Hermione's mother's head, much to her daughter's delight.

"Magic?!" her father exclaimed. "What are you on about, sir?"

"Youre daughter is a witch," Remus said. "I saw her set herself ablaze with illusory flames — accidental magic. You're lucky I was there to stop them; a burning toddler is hardly the most normal thing."

"Sir, you know magic isn't real, right?" the father said. "I would be grateful if you left us alone now."

Remus pointed his wand at the woman's hair. The butterflies that were sitting on it exploded into confetti, causing Hermione to giggle. "Sir, do you know that magic is very real and that the only reason I am legally allowed to tell you about it is because your daughter is a witch? Magic is in our blood, hers and mine. Not believing in magic, for her, is like not believing that you have a left hand. Not believing doesn't mean that you don't have it."

"Dan," the woman said, "I think he might be the real deal."

"I am. I can give you more proof if you want, but not out here. We're lucky that this street isn't too busy; this isn't a conversation to have in public."

"Our house is nearby. We were just walking home," the woman said. "We'll go there."

Remus followed them to their house. It was nicer than the place he was currently living in by a good margin. As they walked in, the woman said, "You say Hermione is a witch. Does that make you a sorcerer?"

"No, merely a wizard. 'Sorcerer' is a title that one has to earn. And I, Remus Lupin, have no titles to my name." He clapped his hands together. "Alright, what would you like to see? I don't often get a chance to show off like this."

"Pull a rabbit out of a hat," the father said.

Remus's enthusiasm plummeted. "Seriously? A muggle magician's trick? How uninspired. Very well then." He pulled out his wand and then grabbed a picture frame off a nearby shelf. "First, I need a hat to pull a rabbit out of." He transfigured the picture into a silk top hat. "Then, I need a rabbit to pull." He silently summoned a book from a shelf across the room and turned it into a living rabbit. "Then, I need to put the rabbit in the hat. A little charm work, and..." he tapped the hat, expanding the space inside while making it so that nothing could accidentally spill out. Then he levitated the transfigured rabbit into the hat. "Now, I say the magic words, I'll pull a rabbit from a hat, as promised." He pointed his wand into the hat. " _Gemino Maxima."_

Remus flipped the hat over and began tapping repeatedly on the back as fast as he could. With every tap, another rabbit popped out. Each rabbit, the moment it touched the floor or another living thing, duplicated again. Within seconds, the floor was entirely covered with a swelling mass of rabbit fur. The two magicals in the room found it highly amusing, with Hermione shouting, "Bunny, bunny!" repeatedly.

The parents, however, found it quite distressing. "Ah! Make it stop! I believe you!"

" _Finite incantatem. Reparo maxima."_ The swelling mass of rabbit flesh vanished in a puff of smoke, and in the haze, everything in the room that had been knocked out of place or damaged moved back to where it had been before and repaired itself to perfect condition. Even some things that had been broken before Remus had shown up were fixed. "Pull a rabbit out of a hat, he says."

"So, you're a wizard. And Hermione's a witch? What are we going to do if Hermione does something like that?" the mother asked.

"She won't," Remus assured them. "That was all willing and highly calculated. A child couldn't possibly do what I did. She lacks the understanding of magic that seven years of magical schooling bring, but more than that, she lacks the raw power. She's a toddler; wizards and witches generally don't start training until they reach eleven, since, before that, they're prone to exhausting themselves. Magic also draws upon emotions, and the emotions of a little kid aren't anywhere near as developed as a teenager's or an adult's."

"So you say there's a school?" she asked.

"Yep. Several, actually, plus the option for private tutoring. Hogwarts is the state-sponsored one, and the best school in the UK. Although it is my alma mater, so I could be biased," Remus replied.

"Magical people must not be that rare if the government pays for a school for magic," Dan said.

"Actually, it's not the muggle — non-magical — government that pays for it. It's the Ministry of Magic that pays for it. And although the Ministry is _technically_ answerable to the crown, it practically works as its own government, a country within a country, hidden behind a massive amount of secrecy magic. To be honest... we just came out of a civil war. The muggle UK might be a nice place to live, but the wizarding UK..." He shook his head. "Let's just leave that there. I really don't mean to scare you."

Dan looked Remus in the eye. "Look, you're not a father, are you? You barely look twenty. When you become a father, you'll see that knowing what lies in wait is _always_ better than a rude surprise. So, I don't care if it's grim. You came into my house to warn me that my daughter was a witch, well, now you're going to warn me about whatever else that entails."

And so Remus did. As he talked, his emotions came to the surface. No longer was he merely informing a family of the state of the world, he was recounting stories from his past, of things he'd face, and of the things he'd seen Lily face as a muggleborn. Before he knew it, he was crying.

The Grangers didn't quite know what to do with the sobbing man. Yet, when he eventually dried his tears, Remus thanked them for listening. "You have no idea how long I've bottled that up. It felt good to get it off my chest. Sorry about that. I didn't mean to bawl like a baby."

The family ended up inviting the ex-werewolf to stay for dinner. Over a meal of reheated leftovers and ham sandwiches, they talked about more pleasant things, such as Remus's tales as a Marauder, or Dan and Emma's tales of baby Hermione. It wasn't a fancy meal, but it was immensely enjoyable for the three adults.

Eventually, they called it a night. As Remus said goodbye, Hermione said, "Bye bye puppy Remy!"

"Puppy Remy?" Remus asked, intrigued. "Remy, sure, but _puppy_?"

Emma answered for her daughter. "You have, um, dog ears growing out of your head. You didn't react, so we thought you knew..."

Remus reached up and felt the soft ears growing out of his head, then blushed. "Oh dear. This is still so new to me." The ears shrank down and slid down the side of his head until they reached a normal human's shape and position. "Remind me to tell you the story about this next time we meet; It's still ongoing, and I suspect there'll be a few more twists and turns until then."

"We'll be looking forward to it, Remus." Dan chuckled lightly. "Of course, that means you'll have to come by again."

"I look forward to it. Now, let me show you one more trick in a wizard's arsenal: apparition. So long, Granger family, and until we meet again." Remus twirled on his heels and disapparated.

He reappeared in his own home, a smile on his face. He imagined that the Granger family had shocked and awed expressions on their faces. Let it not be said that Moony didn't have a flair for the dramatic.

"Good work." Remus jerked around. The young god was lazily reclining on his couch. "You did what I wanted and went beyond the call of duty. What do you desire?"

"Well, I would like you to leave me alone, but I don't think that's going to happen," Remus grumbled. "And honestly, you've come to me twice and both times have brought good things for me. I'm going to take a gamble and hope the trend continues. As for what I want... Well, I like this 'not being sick all the time' thing, so I want excellent health for the rest of my life."

The god hopped to his feet. "Excellent choice. Now, I'm going to put you to sleep; you'll wake up tomorrow in the best health of your life. Understand?"

"Yes. Wait, before you do, what do I call you? You never introduced yourself."

"That is because there are two ways you could think of me. Do you want the name of the face you see, or the name of the being that I am?" the boy god replied.

"Both would be nice."

The god struck an exaggerated thinking pose. "Well, I believe the face you see is that of a thirteen-year-old Harry Potter, as he is when you meet him one particular day in the future. As to my other name... I doubt your human mouth can even pronounce it. Call me Nyarl, if you must call me anything. Now, off to bed with you." Nyarl suddenly struck Remus in the chest with a finger poke, causing him to collapse into a dream-filled sleep.

* * *

Remus awoke in his bed to the sound of an owl tapping on his window. He opened his eyes but found them obstructed by a piece of paper. He plucked the note off of his face and held it back, absently noting that he'd transformed in the middle of the night to his lycomorph form as his hand was currently a furry hand-paw hybrid. Ignoring his hand, he instead read the note clutched in it.

" _Good news: your good health is part of your blood now; your future children will inherit it to a lesser degree. Bad news: your body now considers its current state as 'injured.' You will be extremely ravenous for a few days and live with a heightened appetite for the rest of your life. Don't eat anybody."_

The note was unsigned, not that Remus needed a signature to know it was from Nyarl. As if agreeing with the note, his stomach rumbled fiercely. He hoisted himself up, surprising himself with how effortless the task felt. To his limbs, his own body felt as light as a feather.

Speaking of feathers, the owl at the window kept tapping. Remus jumped up but then slammed his head on his ceiling, having forgotten that he was currently _much_ larger than normal. Shrinking down, the naked man opened his window to let the owl in. "Bloody bird; what do you have for me at this early hour?"

The clock on the mantle protested that it was in fact late in the morning, almost eleven, in fact. Remus ignored it, choosing to instead take the bird's letter. The bird flew off the moment it was relieved of its burden. Remus opened it and quickly skimmed through the letter; Sirius was meeting with his legal counsel and requested Remus as a witness. The lawyer wanted to talk with Remus beforehand in order to help construct the defense. Included was the meeting place and time, which unfortunately for Remus, was awfully soon. Panicking, Remus hurriedly dressed, raided his refrigerator for food, stuffed his face with said food so quickly that he barely tasted it, and then apparated out.


	3. Black, Lupin, Potter, and Dursleys

Remus barreled into the interrogation room like a bull on rollerblades; that is to say, he crashed spectacularly. Whatever Nyarl had done to him, his mind was now woefully out of sync with his body and kept sending his limbs flying every which way. Even an attempt at slow step made him use way too much force, turning him into one hell of a clutz. At the moment, he'd lost all of his wolf-like grace.

"Moony?" Sirius asked from the seat he that he was chained to.

Remus regained his balance. The interrogation room contained one guard, Sirius, his lawyer, a table, two occupied chairs, and one free one. The ex-wolf planted himself in the available seat. "Padfoot."

"Seriously, Moony, I've been gone for, what, two and a half weeks, and you end up looking like this? Have you been binging muscle-growth potions or something? And what's with the clumsiness?"

Remus chuckled. "Yeah... things have been a little crazy at the moment. This isn't even the half of it. You look like shit, though." Remus eyed his friend, who was unshaven, dirty, and worryingly skinny.

"Yeah, well I'd look less like shit if I had some chocolate, but _some people_ —" he eyed the guard with a petulant sneer, "—won't let me have any." Sirius turned back towards Remus. "I know you have some chocolate on you."

Remus did, in fact, have chocolate in his robe pockets. He made no move to retrieve it. "Sirius, look me in the eye and tell me if you're innocent or not, Marauder's honor."

Sirius gulped and looked away. He eventually managed to look Remus in the eye. "I _tried_ to kill Peter for betraying Lily and James, but no, I swear that I have never killed anyone. _Ever_. Peter was the one to betray us — we switched secret keepers on my suggestion — and Peter blew up the street before he escaped as Wormtail. He framed me. Remus, you have to believe me!"

"I do."

"I'm innocent! I promise you, I'm... Wait, you do? Oh, thank Merlin," Sirius slumped in his chair, relief plastered on his face.

"Actually, I found proof that you are innocent of betraying the Potters — their will." Remus placed his copy of the document on the table. He explained the sealing of the will, the missing paperwork from the DMLE, and Amelia's implications of a conspiracy to get Sirius locked up, possibly without even a trial. With the layer's guidance, the three of them planned out Sirius's defense. Sirius had to eventually be escorted back to his holding cell, so they parted ways as friends again. Remus immediately left the Ministry, and as he had been doing the past few days, made himself scarce.

November twenty-ninth came upon them, leading Moony to once more journey to the Ministry. He was unceremoniously left to wait in a small room adjoining the courtroom, where he could neither see nor hear the details of the trial. He was eventually called in to testify.

While taking the seat at the center of the courtroom, Minister Millicent Bagnold, temporary Chief Warlock, announced his name to the Wizengamot. Asking the following, the Minister asked her opening questions. "How do you know the accused, Sirius Black?"

"We met in Hogwarts in the dorm we shared during our first night at the castle. He, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and I became best friends."

"Describe your involvement in the events leading up to and following the night of October thirty-first, 1981. Please be concise in your recounting."

Remus told them how Lily and James went into hiding and how they suspected that he was a spy for You-Know-Who. He told them how he knew nothing of the events of that night until he had learned about it in the paper. He told them how on the evening before the full moon, he'd had a visitor. "We talked; he was offering me a job at the time, having sought me out specifically. As it was close to the time of my transformation, I begged him to leave. Before he left, he said something that, while not directly relevant to the current situation, inspired me to seek out the last will and testament of James and Lily Potter."

Sirius's lawyer brought an official copy of the will forward and read the relevant parts to the Wizengamot. Remus watched the faces of the Wizengamot's members soften and take a more sympathetic appearance.

"Now," the minister stated, "just a few more questions, to verify the accuracy of Mr. Black's testimony. Was Peter Pettigrew an unregistered animagus, and if so, what was his form?"

"He was an unregistered animagus, yes, and his form was that of a light brown, common garden rat," Remus replied.

"Would it be possible, in your opinion, for Peter Pettigrew to fake his own death? To clarify, I mean does it seem like something he is mentally able and willing to do?"

Remus was hesitant at first but eventually replied, "Yes. Looking back on it, Peter always seemed to be a cowardly individual. The only reason I hadn't considered it before was that Peter seemed loyal to us. So yes, I think he would be mentally able and willing to do just about anything to ensure his own survival, including faking his own death."

"No further questions," the minister said. "Now, if there are no further witnesses and no more issues to address..." She paused, waiting for an interjection. None came. "Then I motion for a vote."

Each charge was brought up and voted upon. "On the charge of betraying the Potter family, we find you not guilty. On the charge of being an accomplice to the murders of James and Lily Potter, and the attempted murder of Harry Potter, we find you not guilty. On the twelve charges of murdering muggles, we find you not guilty. On the charge of murdering Peter Pettigrew, we find you guilty not of murder, but of _attempted_ murder.

"However, given the extreme circumstances of the situation, for the crime of attempted murder, I sentence you to the minimum punishment of two months in Azkaban's low-security wing, with the possibility of parole in one month for good behavior. So mote it be."

From where he was sitting, Remus could hear Sirius muttering, "That's not... I don't want to go back."

Remus made his way over to his friend. "Padfoot. Behave, 'cause I want to see you in a month. I'll be searching for Wormtail and I know you'll want to be out before I find him so you can find him yourself."

"Hah! Alright, Moony. Just this once, _I solemnly swear that I am up to no trouble."_ He grinned in that distinctly cheeky way that only Sirius could manage. "Oh, Remus, Harry is with Petunia, Lily's sister. Could you go check up on him for me? Let him know that his _Pa'foo_ will be coming to check up on him soon?"

"Sure. But why is he with Petunia? He should have been taken straight to you."

Sirius shrugged. "Hagrid was one of the first ones there that night. He gave Harry to Dumbledore, who put him with Petunia."

"Dumbledore was also the one who sealed their will, which would have given you guardianship of Harry." Remus frowned. "Hmm... Well, perhaps it was for the best. I'll still go check on Prongslet."

"Thanks, Moony. I'll see you in a month."

* * *

With Sirius having had his trial, it was like a weight had been lifted from Remus's chest. He relaxed, knowing that his friend wasn't a traitor and knowing that they'd see each other soon enough.

Knowing that Harry was with Petunia, however, put some of that weight back onto his chest. They'd met once at Lily and James's wedding. Petunia struck him as the kind of woman who was easily consumed by envy but was otherwise a pleasant woman. He had not met Petunia's husband, and couldn't remember his first name.

It took him a bit to track her down, but Remus eventually found himself in front of an ordinary house on an ordinary street in Surry. There was no character to the house, nothing that made it stand out like a wizard's house did, so Remus found himself repeatedly comparing the number on the building to the address written on a small scrap of parchment.

Satisfied that he was in the right place, Remus knocked on the front door. A minute later, the door opened to reveal a slightly overweight, brown haired man. An air of tiredness hung around him. "Yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to be Mr. Dursley, would you? Your wife is Petunia, right? May I speak with her?"

"Yes, I am and she is," Mr. Dursley said. "Might I ask who you are?"

"Remus Lupin. I'm a close friend of your sister-in-law, Lily."

The man across from Remus turned and yelled into the house. "Pet, there's a young man at the door claiming to be one of your sister's friends!" he yelled.

Hurried footsteps came from deeper in the house. "I'm coming, Vernon." The speaker stepped into the foyer and spotted the ex-werewolf. "Remus? Come in. Get off the porch before the neighbors see you and start gossiping."

Remus stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "Petunia, I just heard that Lily's son was placed here with you. I wanted to check up on him."

"If by placed here, you meant dropped on the front porch in a basket in the middle of the night, without even ringing the doorbell to let us know that he was here, then yes, he was _placed_ here. More like abandoned," Petunia said.

"Are you _kidding me?!_ Dumbledore did that?! That _cannot_ be legal," Remus growled. "He should have been placed with Sirius immediately. Sirius is his godfather, and you already have a child. I'm positive that he should have been the one caring for Harry, not you."

"Thank you!" Petunia exclaimed. "I _knew_ that there was something odd about that. _I knew it!_ Let's go see him so I can put Harry where he belongs, with your kind."

"His kind?" Vernon asked.

Petunia and Remus looked at him, then Remus looked at Petunia. "He doesn't know yet, does he?"

"I had no reason to tell him," Petunia said. "It never came up."

"I am right here. Do you mind not talking about me like I'm not here?" Vernon asked.

"Sorry, Mr. Dursley. I won't tell what isn't mine to say. But Petunia, Sirius was just imprisoned. He's got two months, or a month with parole before he could possibly take custody from you. Worse case, he might not be able to."

Petunia frowned. "Let's hope it's sooner than later."

"Agreed. Though, in the meantime, if you ever need help, I'm available. Babysitting or whatever else comes up... _anything_ at all. I'll give you my phone number." Yes, Remus had a phone. Sometimes he worked at a muggle location and occasionally he made muggle friends; they obviously couldn't fire call him.

Petunia smiled, but it was a weary smile, that of someone who was in the midst of having the life drained out of them. The smile was reflected on her husband's face. "Brilliant. I think Vernon and I will take you up on that offer, won't we?"

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Petunia and I haven't had a night to ourselves in a _long_ time." His voice carried a note of fatigue.

"Oh, you probably came to see Harry, didn't you?" Petunia slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. "Come, come. He and Dudley are playing in the sitting room." Petunia led Remus towards the back of the house, while Vernon followed behind.

In the sitting room, the two boys were entertaining themselves with a pile of blocks and a toy airplane. They were sitting apart from each other, and Dudley had his back towards Harry. Remus noted that the young boys' faces were very similar, with only the color of Harry's eyes and hair distinguishing him from Dudley. Marring Harry's forehead, however, was a lightning bolt-shaped cut that was still scabbed over. "How did Harry hurt his head?"

"It was like that when he was dropped on our doorstep," Petunia said. "It was still bleeding a little, so I cleaned it up as best I could. It's been over a month, but it still hasn't healed."

"Mind if I take a look at it? I'm no healer, but I have patched up a few nicks and cuts."

"Be my guest," Petunia said.

Remus went over and picked up Harry. "Hey there, Prongslet! How are you?"

"UNCLE MOONY!" the little toddler screamed joyfully. "Uncle Moony! Uncle Moony! Where mummy?"

"Ah..." Remus faltered. How did you explain to a toddler that their parent was dead? He sat down on the couch and plopped Harry in his lap. "Your mummy is somewhere else. Mummy loves you, you know." Remus poked Harry in the belly, causing the toddler to giggle.

"Uncle Moony? Where Pa'foo?"

"Padfoot is... in a big castle, fighting scary monsters so that they don't come after you. He'll be here soon, and then you can play with him all you like. Alright?"

"Mmmhmmm." The young wizard grinned.

"Now, let me take a look at you. How's your head?" He brushed aside the thin strands of hair that covered the boy's forehead. The moment his finger brushed against the cut, he jerked his hand back in pain. "Bloody hell, what was that!?"

"Remus?" asked Petunia wearily.

"Petunia, dear, could I have a moment alone with Harry? And you know that thing you haven't told Vernon yet? I think it's time you tell him." Remus looked back at Harry and drew his wand. "Merlin save us..."

Petunia's eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "Vernon, we _really_ need to talk. Let me just grab Dudley first." She scooped up her own little boy, a nervous Vernon following behind her.

As for Remus, he tapped his wand to Harry's head. "What are you?" he muttered to the scar. A little of his magic flowed from his wand and into the wound, letting him feel out whatever was in there. It was the most basic of diagnostic spells, but it would allow him to feel out the issue for himself.

Suddenly, a pulse of black magic erupted from Harry's head, invisible and almost undetectable. Had Remus not been looking for it explicitly, Remus would have likely missed it. But he felt it, and it felt awful, absolutely disgusting. He could almost hear that foul power whispering in the back of his mind. For a second, the power felt like Harry's own magic; if Remus hadn't _immediately_ realized that there was no possible way a child could have produced malice on that level, let alone a toddler, he might have thought it had been Harry himself that had put out that disgusting feeling.

And then it occurred to Remus that whatever this thing was on Harry's head, the Dursleys had been living with it for over a month now. Muggles had absolutely _no_ metal defenses; they couldn't even frown away a cheering charm, let alone whatever the hell this was. They needed to go to St. Mungo's, and they needed to go there _now._

Grabbing Harry tightly, Remus stood and carried the boy in the directions the sound of conversation was coming from. He entered the room, where Petunia was explaining things to Vernon. "We need to go to St. Mungo's Hospital. The wound on Harry's head is cursed."

Petunia stilled. "Oh... oh dear. Yes, well I suppose I have to come with you then."

Remus shook his head. "No, I mean 'we' as in _all of us,_ need to go to St. Mungo's. The curse just tried to attack my mind, as I'm sure it's tried to attack you lot. And without the same mental protections Harry and I naturally have, the three of you could be very ill without even noticing it."

"Vernon, get the car keys."

"I don't want to wait in a car; I know a quicker way," Remus said. He yanked his shoe off his foot, pulled out his wand, and tapped it while saying " _Portus._ " Then he held out the portkey. "Petunia, Vernon, grab this and grab Dudley. It's a portkey; it will teleport us to the hospital."

Vernon was confused but complied eventually. When the three adults and two toddlers were touching Remus's shoe, he warned, "When you feel like you're about to fall, kick your legs out repeatedly. Ready? _Mischief Managed._ "

The magical hooks grabbed them by their navels and hurled them through the aether. After around fifteen seconds of spinning (and screaming by everyone except Remus), the hooks loosened. Petunia and Dudley were ungracefully dumped on the floor of St. Mungo's, while Vernon and Remus managed to float down.

"That was brilliant!" Vernon exclaimed. "Really quite fun."

"You are the only man I have ever met that thinks so," Remus said, hugging the crying toddler in his arms to calm him down. Meanwhile, Vernon helped Petunia and Dudley (who, like his father, was smiling) back on their feet.

"Where are we?" Vernon asked.

A nurse ran up to them. "St. Mungo's Hospital. Who's injured?"

"Curse-based mental influence, all of us," Remus said. "The two of us are wizards," — he motioned to Harry — "but they are Harry's muggle relatives. They know."

"Right. Let's get you up to the fourth floor."

They were escorted up and very promptly seen by a healer. He cast diagnostic charms on all of them. "Well, I'm glad you came in. There are a lot of spells on _all_ of you, and since most of you are muggles, this raises a lot of questions."

Remus explained the situation. "Well, that doesn't answer all of my questions," the healer said. "But it's a start. Alright, from what I see, there is foul magic coming from Harry's scar, no doubt left behind from when he survived You-Know-Who's attack. Remus, you were absolutely correct that it has been affecting each and every one of you. However, there are other behavior modification charms on all of you, cast with a _different_ magical signature.

"The good news is that for the Dursleys, since they are muggles, we can purge them of magic very easily. Since their bodies have only the tiniest spark of magic, smaller than the weakest of spells, all spells on their bodies are easily picked out and pried off. For Remus and Harry, it's more complicated, but not impossible."

The healer waved his wand, causing three golden bubbles to surround the three Dursleys. They shrank, passing through their flesh until they were naught but the size of grapes. The healer again waved his wand, causing the three orbs to emerge from their bodies, pulling the foreign magic with it.

As the orb left them, the three muggles involuntarily smiled. "Oh, that felt quite pleasant," Vernon said.

"Wow, I feel as if I just drank a lot of coffee," Petunia added. "My head feels so clear."

Dudley giggled.

"The three of you should be good to go," the healer said. "Why don't you three go wait in the waiting room while I deal with these two?" The Dursleys agreed and departed. The healer turned back to Remus. "I didn't want to tell them, but some of those spells were quite malicious. You were right about the influence of the curse on Mr. Potter, but the other wizard definitely had it out for them. You might want to inspect their home for other such charms."

"Is there any way to tell who cast those spells?" Remus asked.

"Yes. St. Mungo's always keeps samples of the magical signatures of those who enter its walls. That record is combined with one generated by Hogwarts so that the DMLE can investigate who cursed who. When a patient comes in cursed by an unknown, we are required to disclose that information." The healer motioned to the three golden orbs, which each contained a smaller orb of silver magic. "We'll get these tested. Now, since you and Harry are wizards, we'll have to tackle each spell one at a time, rather than scooping them off like we did with the others."

The healer laid them down on the examination table and began poking them with his wand. He pried spell after spell off of them, and with each one that came off, Remus felt a little lighter. The ex-werewolf hadn't even realized his thoughts had been as clouded as they had been. Finally, the healer said, "I have good news, less good news, and very bad news. Good news: You have been completely purged. Less good news: Harry has been purged of almost everything. And bad news..."

The healer sighed. His face looked like he was calm, but his wand was shaking in his vice-like grip. "You might want to sit down for this. Harry's cut is not caused by a curse. It's caused by a parasitic soul fragment attached to his head. Just by the feel of it, I'd bet my life that You-Know-Who did that to Harry."

Remus growled, "Harry has a piece of You-Know-Who's _soul_ in his head?!"

The healer's shaking was growing worse. "Y-yes. I c-can destroy it... I think..." He raised his wand at Harry's head, though it was shaking so badly that Remus seriously questioned the healer's aim. And then the healer started incanting, " _A-a-avada k-k-k-"_

Remus punched the healer with all his augmented strength. Then he pounced, landing on the healer as a fully transformed beast. " **You tried to kill Harry!** " He roared.

The door burst open. " _Stupefy!"_

Remus saw black.

* * *

Remus awoke feeling strangely calm. He was also tied to a chair. "What happened?"

"You tried to kill one of our healers," a woman's voice said. Remus looked up and saw a nurse holding her wand at him. "To be fair, he just tried to kill a baby. I stunned you, then him, and then forced an admittedly heavy dose of calming draughts down each of your throats. I tied you up and woke him up. He explained his reasoning. I have to say, if it didn't involve murdering a baby, I would have agreed with him."

"What?!"

The healer spoke up, revealing his presence to Remus. "There is a piece of Voldemort's soul in Harry. That means there's another piece out there, connected by sympathetic magic. If one part of him is alive, then You-Know-Who is still alive somewhere. He could come back, and I just can't deal with that. Not again."

Remus didn't say anything. Shock and calming draught mixed in his mind, making him hold his tongue.

The healer continued, "If Harry was a muggle, getting the soul fragment out of him would have been easy. The fragment won't leave until there's no living magic in the body; for a muggle, we could put them through a controlled, reversible death, comparable to snuffing out a candle and relighting it before the wax cooled. But for wizards, our anatomy and physiology is significantly altered by the presence of magic. Our skulls are magically bigger on the inside to accommodate the extra pieces of brain that we need to manipulate magic. When wizards die, our brains are pulverized by the shrinking space. Short of hitting Harry with the killing curse and hoping You-Know-Who's soul takes the hit for him, there's nothing we can do."

"I see," Remus said, a bit too calmly.

"We've sealed it up as best we could; the soul fragment _shouldn't_ cause any problems anymore. Well, I say that, but we can't know with absolute certainty. We'd need a necromancer to be certain, but good luck finding one in Europe that won't kill you," the healer said.

Medically speaking, there wasn't much more to cover. Still both heavily affected by the calming draught, Remus and the healer concluded their conversation and finished up at the hospital. Remus took the Dursleys back to their home, where he searched for other spells that might have been placed on the household. Finding several, he calmly dismantled them. Then he bid the Dursleys and Harry farewell and apparated home. There, he sat on his bed until the calming draught finally wore off, letting his emotions come to the surface.

Remus cried.


	4. Demented

"Are you done crying yet?"

Remus opened his eyes. In front of him, though hard to see through his watery eyes, was Nyarl. "What do you want?!"

"At this moment? For you to stop your wailing. It's disgraceful, and frankly unnecessary."

"Unnecessary? You bastard, I just found out that my best friend's son, my nephew practically, is possessed by a fragment of the most horrible wizard in the world!" Remus shouted, hoisting himself to his feet. "At least show some sympathy!"

Nyarl replied, "Don't blame me. In fact, you should be thanking me. If it wasn't for my intervention, you wouldn't know, _nobody_ would know, and that fragment would have had years to influence Harry, Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley's minds in horrible ways. That and those other enchantments wouldn't have been found. The hospital neglected to tell you, but they were cast by Albus Dumbledore. You can owl them and check, if you don't believe me.

"Frankly, I don't," Remus growled.

"That hardly matters. What does matter is that you're now currently free of his mind control, and so are Harry and his relatives," the god said. "And I don't appreciate your attitude. I have given you two tasks, and both have lead to improvements in your life. I have given you two rewards, and both have massively improved your health. You would be a sick, pathetic man right now; Sirius Black would be rotting, forgotten, in Azkaban's high-security wing; nobody would be searching for the traitorous rat; the Dursleys would have lived full of malicious spite for the next decade and a half; the Grangers wouldn't know that their daughter is a witch; the DMLE wouldn't have discovered the rampant obliviations happening in their department; and Harry wouldn't even have a chance of getting free. A lot of good things have come your way because of me, and I won't stand for you shouting at me in moody angst. Grow up."

Moony had hardly expected so thorough of a chewing-out that it shocked him a bit. He swallowed the retort building in his throat and took a second to think about what Nyarl had said. "You're right. Thank you."

"Good. Now, if you are done moping around, I have another task for you."

Remus eyed the young-looking god. "What is it? And what exactly are all these tasks accomplishing, anyway?"

Nyarl grinned. For an instant, not nearly long enough to understand but more than enough time to see, Remus caught a glimpse of the real Nyarl, the creature hidden behind the guise of the older Harry Potter. It was indescribable. "Chaos, Remus, chaos. Everything I've had you do so far has started a chain of events that will increase the number of players in the game and increase the number of actions each can take. Neither good nor evil, it is _freedom._ Now, presently, there is a prophecy in play; normally, I would despise prophecies, but in this case, the prophecy actually foretells a future that easily removes an inhibitor of chaos. In short, I want Harry to finish killing Voldemort, preferably without dying himself. There are a couple ways this can come about, but the one I'm interested in also is the one where you _don't_ die right next to your future wife."

"I like that plan too," Remus agreed.

"Obviously," Nyarl drawled in a way that reminded Remus of Snape. "This is why I want you to learn and use the one curse that could save Harry Potter from an unnecessary death."

"That's brilliant!"

"There's just one problem," Nyarl replied. "Remember how I said I would never ask you to kill someone? Well, learning that curse and using it would very likely get _you_ killed. I can't have that. The curse is the 'Dementor's Curse,' which would allow you to remove a soul from a body and consume it for power — in other words, you could pluck Voldemort out of Harry's head and eat it for lunch. Using it without the right preparations, however, would turn you permanently into a dementor yourself."

Remus looked green. "Is that really necessary?"

"No. Of course not. But the only other option that results in the removal of the soul shard from Harry's head is resurrecting Voldemort and having him and him alone murder Harry with the killing curse," Nyarl replied. "Well, you could always summon the Grim Reaper to help you, but that would be a catastrophically bad idea, worse than bringing back Voldemort."

"Right... fine, dementor's curse it is." A wave of nausea shook Remus's stomach. "Where do I start?"

"In Hogwarts, there is a hidden room on the seventh-floor corridor that you and your friends never found. It fills itself with what the user needs, hence its name: the Room of Requirement. It has its limits on what it can physically do, but it can provide you with all the information you need. Start there." Then, without warning, Nyarl vanished into thin air.

"Wait!" Remus shouted to nobody. He scowled. "I'm not a student. How am I supposed to get into Hogwarts?" The soft rustle of parchment caught Moony's ears. He turned and found a blank, folded mass of parchment that he recognized instantly. "Oh. That works."

* * *

Sneaking into Hogwarts was nothing new to Moony of the Marauders. Sneaking in _without_ James, Sirius, and Peter was, as was sneaking in without James's invisibility cloak and without being a student. In fact, it would be especially awkward now if he was caught by anyone, teacher or otherwise since he definitely looked nothing like a student now.

Disillusioned, silenced, transformed, and running on all fours, Remus made his way through the castle with lightning speed and phantasmal stealth. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, pushing every one of his already heightened senses to never-before-reached extremes. Every tiny noise in the old stone castle sounded like a thunderous boom to Moony's ears, and the faint scents of students smelled like an approaching horde of approaching enemies.

Moony, of course, was having a blast. Despite being arguably the calmest of his old quartet, Moony was the adrenaline junky of the group, the one who got his jollies on a good, heart-pounding adventure. This? This was exactly what got him hot and bothered.

He made his way up to the seventh-floor corridor. Starting at one end, he made his way down the hall, searching for any sign of the room he so desperately needed. It supposedly had the information he needed to save Harry within it, and he wasn't going to give up on finding it, no matter how hard it was.

Reaching the far end of the hallway, he'd finished checking the right wall. He turned around and started checking the right, formerly left, wall. Again, seeing nothing he turned around once he made his way to the end of the hallway. He transformed back to human and drew his wand. This time, instead of looking for something visually, he started looking for something magically.

The sound of stone grinding against stone made Remus jump. Panicking, he ducked around a corner and peeked out. He saw nobody. Instead, he found a door where there hadn't been one before. _'Brilliant,'_ he thought to himself.

When he walked inside, he found a table piled high with books, a potions bench stacked with tool and ingredients, a large, and a raised platform of stone. Behind him, the door slammed shut and vanished, leaving only a thin crack in the mirrors that encircled the room to show where it had once been. Remus walked over to the table with books on it and found two books that were opened. The one on the left was opened to a page listing the "Speed Reading" charm. The other listed the instructions for the "Remember This!" charm.

"This room is bloody brilliant," Remus proclaimed. The mirrors on the wall seemed to reflect a little brighter, as if proud of itself. Grabbing the book on the memory charm, Remus began to read.

* * *

His enthusiasm for the wonders of the room faded very rapidly. He'd come in seeking power to save a life, and the room was determined to see that exactly that happened, and as quickly as possible.

At first, it was pleasant, with the room taking care of his needs. A bed would appear when he needed it, food would arrive when he was hungry, and though he could hear the students outside, it barred them from entry if they tried. But as time went on, it started becoming petulant and demanding. If Remus tried to read the books out of the order it prescribed them, or tried to read other sections than the ones it said, it slammed the books shut on his fingers. If he spent time goofing off — because really, who could focus indefinitely? — it threw the next book at him.

Of course, the did give him breaks from the reading, but it seemed insistent that he spent that time on more practical things. If the room wasn't unsubtly implying that he should be working on his target practice or raw magical output, it demanded that he exercise by creating weights, gym equipment, a running track, or a pool.

The room also messed with his sense of time. The glowing light was constant, and aside from the noise outside (which seemed unusually sporadic and random), he wasn't quite sure how long he'd been in there. It had to have been a few days, at least. A week?

And then he exhausted the room's supply of light and gray magic that it wanted him to learn. He'd enhanced his body with all the magic it had shown him, and taken most of the potions save for those with really rare ingredients. But now, It wanted him to learn and use black magic.

"Are you sure this is really necessary, room?" a concerned Remus asked.

The room said yes by throwing the book at his head again. Remus deftly caught it in one hand but took the hint anyway. "Fine."

Of the spells he learned from that point on, the first spells were the ones that were _legally_ dark — that is, they were labeled dark by the ministry, and thus were illegal to practice normally, but weren't terribly dangerous or evil. Those, Remus had no problem with. It was the other spells, however...

* * *

A goat materialized next to the stone dais, chained to a post. Everything else in the room had vanished, save for one book, a bowl made of black stone, and an obsidian dagger.

"Seriously, Hogwarts! This is getting a bit messed up."

Another book dropped onto Remus's head. He grumbled and opened it to the bookmarked page, and read the underlined section. _"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is, first and foremost, an institution of learning. The founders all unanimously believed that there was no subject worth omitting from the curriculum. Though the curriculum has certainly expanded in some areas as new discoveries were made, politics has seen the curriculum shrunk in other areas, most notably in the areas of dark magic. In the early days of Hogwarts, students were taught how to safely and responsibly use their gifts to the fullest extent, even if it involved magics of the foulest kind._

" _It was the dream of Godric Gryffindor that one day, one of the students of Hogwarts would discover a way to purge the evil from magic, so that sacrifices need not be made in order to achieve one's goals. This dream has yet to be realized."_

The book vanished from Remus's hands the moment he finished the passage. "Fine, I'll do it," he said. Hogwarts seemed pleased.

He ended up having to eat the goat's heart raw while sitting in the middle of a circle of blood. It wasn't as bad as he was expecting. In fact, the wolf in him asked for more, since the heart tasted so good. He ended up eating the whole goat.

* * *

The room had started getting outright creepy after that. Meals came less and less frequently in the form of mounds of food (he was still eating obscene amounts because of his second payment from Nyarl), and more and more frequently in animals for him to hunt. And when he did get cooked food, the drink with it was nearly a quart of fresh blood. There was no other supply of fluids in the room, save for the potions he made, and the room wasn't letting him out.

One of the werewolves he'd met a while back said that pig's blood looked, smelled, and tasted almost exactly like human blood. Remus prayed it was pig's blood he was drinking. He knew now that the room could only provide him things that were in the school or on the school's extensive grounds, and he knew that the grounds often served as farmland for Hogsmeade village. He just couldn't ever remember seeing any pigs.

He _really_ prayed that it was pig's blood.

Finally, mercifully, the room decided that he was done. The last books it gave him were ones he'd already seen, opened to the pages that detailed potions or rituals that he couldn't do yet (needing certain celestial alignments), didn't have the tools for (how in the world was he supposed to find _Atlantean Glass?_ ), or didn't have the ingredients required (dementor bones?!). Remus made a list of what he needed to get and still needed to do. Then, finally, the room let him out.

Remus emerged from the room a different man — more of a monster, really. The room's insistence that he eat raw meat and his isolation meant that he'd taken to spending practically all his time in his other form. The constant exercise and high-protein diet had made him put on a lot more muscle, and the body-augmenting magics had only exacerbated that. The blood magics had caused his eyes to turn crimson in both forms, while the runic magic had littered his torso with symbolic scars.

The room of requirement had taken the battle-hardened soldier of the war against the Death Eaters and had mixed it with the remains of the beast that lay strewn across Remus's mind. It had taken that, thrown it to the forefront of his mind, and then plainly reminded him that he was on a mission to save his honorary nephew (his pack) from the clutches of the Dark Lord's soul.

When he arrived back at his home, he found a stack of letters waiting for him. He went to pick them up, but a hand grabbing his own stopped him. He glanced over his shoulder. "Nyarl."

"Remus. Don't bother with those yet. You're on a time limit, you know. Take them with you."

"Nyarl, I just got home. I want to rest," Remus replied tersely. "The room held me hostage for... how long has it been?"

"A month."

"A month?!" Remus shouted. He could have sworn it was only two weeks. "Sirius should be out by now!"

Nyarl shook his head. "Another prisoner started a fight, one of the human guards got hurt and Sirius got a black eye. Some of the nastier inmates blamed the fight on Sirius, and their friends backed them up. The guard seemed all-too-happy to keep Sirius for the rest of his sentence since everybody _'knew'_ he was a dirty, rotten Black. He'll be out for sure next month."

Remus growled. "Damn..."

"As for you, I believe you have some ingredients and tools to collect," the chaos god remarked.

"Yeah, about those..."

"If you recall, one of the rituals you performed was one that granted you extremely enhanced senses, especially those that are purely magical in nature. If you try, I expect that you might find yourself quite capable of using both mind reading and practical divination. That _is_ why I had the room teach you that, after all," Nyarl said.

"Wait, that was you who made the room teach me all that stuff?!"

"Of course. You _are_ my employee. I hardly want you being incompetent on me."

"And the blood and animals it fed me?!"

"That was all you, _Moony_. The wolf spirit isn't gone from your body at all; it was merely made into a part of you. Subservient to your will it may be, but it is neither silent nor passive within you," Nyarl explained. "You were hungry, and Hogwarts cares for her students, _especially_ one that came back of his own free will and at risk to himself."

"Note to self: never tell a Ravenclaw that the school wants them to stay. They'll never leave again," Moony remarked. "Alright, so you want me to divine the locations of these ingredients, right?"

"That I do," Nyarl said. "A bit of advice: you may have to travel to North America for an Atlantean Glass."

"I see. Thank you."

"No," Nyarl replied, grinning, "thank _you._ "

* * *

Remus dug out his old divination textbooks and his crystal ball, mildly surprising himself with the fact that he _hadn't_ thrown them away. He began the exercises listed in the book, and to his _monumental_ surprise, found that they worked. Images started appearing almost instantly in the ball.

With a few supplementary spells, Remus gave himself the ability to hear whatever he was seeing. Though he found the future to be murky and unclear, the present appeared before him as clearly as the world seen with his own naked eyes.

Now, he should have been looking for the things on his list. However, he couldn't help himself; he had to see Sirius. The vision appeared in the crystal ball, and with a flick of his wand, Remus transferred it to his mind's eye. To him, it now appeared as if he were floating invisibly, silently, and intangible in Sirius's room. He could feel the distant chill of the Dementors circling the higher floors, and he could see Sirius pacing the small cell as Padfoot.

Grabbing his wand, Remus said the incantation for the astral projection spell, forcing it through the vision. Forming around where his mind's eye was currently hovering, the slightly translucent image of his body took shape. As it was intangible and would make no sound until Remus spoke, Padfoot didn't notice it at first. But when he did...

Padfoot jumped several feet in the air, landing against the wall as Sirius. "Oh, _bloody fucking hell!_ Lord Anubis!" He bowed deeply.

Remus's mind blanked for a second. Then he remembered what he currently looked like. Glowing eyes, canid head, translucent, appearing without warning in a heavily warded cell... Yes, that completely looked like the Egyptian god of the dead, Anubis. Considering that the gods of most of the world's major mythologies did actually exist and regularly talked with wizards the world over, concluding that one was currently sharing your prison cell wasn't unreasonable. But in this case, it was wrong.

Remus burst out laughing. "As flattering as your respect is, when we get to the afterlife, I'm so telling Prongs that you _mistook me for a god._ " He laughed some more. "Score one, Remus Lupin. Let it forever be known in Marauder history that _**I**_ am the godly one."

"Remus! Seriously?!"

"No, you're Sirius. I'm the godly one, remember?" Remus quipped.

Sirius groaned. "Yes. Fine. You're the _godly one_ , Remus. How in the bloody world did you get here, and why do you look like a bodybuilding Egyptian god?"

Remus chuckled, echoed by his projection. "That is a long, _complicated_ story that just keeps getting weirder." He preceded to tell an abbreviated version of it.

When Sirius was up to speed, the dog-man summarized it quite elegantly: "So... you're on a divine quest to save my godson and screw with the world by causing ripple-effect chaos?"

Remus compared that statement to his own mental version of events. "Yeah. Bloody hell, it's a god-tier Marauder prank, and we're not even the masterminds." He pretended to sob dramatically.

"So, which god is it? You never said. Is it Eris, Set, or Apep? Who?"

"He's never said explicitly, but I'm almost absolutely certain it's Nyarlathotep," Remus replied. "The thought of working for an _outer_ god is a bit disconcerting, but so far, he'd been nothing but helpful."

"Yeah, but he's an outer god _and_ a chaos god..." Sirius sighed. "Remus, if that's true, you're already in it for the long haul and there's nothing anyone can do to save you. _You_ can't save you now if this goes sour. You said he's offering you a choice each time, but I bet he's saying it in just the right way that you pick the choice he wants you to every time."

The Anubis-lookalike averted his gaze. "Yeah... I know. I've always suspected, really. But what choice do I have? Play his game, or... well, I don't know what will happen to me, to us. He claims that if I hadn't played his game from the beginning, you'd be up in the high-security wing, forgotten. It would be years before you get out. I think he wants you in his game as much as he wants me."

"At least he wants us alive and in play, so to speak. That's something, right?" Sirius put on his signature grin, though it was a little more hollow than usual.

"That it is."

"Also, when I get out, Dumbledore's second on my list, just below Peter. I don't care about anything else he did, but what that man has done to Harry is inexcusable. I solemnly swear that I am going to tear that man a new one," Sirius vowed. "Even if I have to make a-" Suddenly, Sirius clapped his hands over his mouth and shook his head. "No, I am **NOT** going to finish that sentence," he stated after pulling his hands away.

The projection of Remus snorted. "I won't ask. Anyway, stay out of trouble. I'll see you in a few weeks. Right now, I've got some things to find. Later, Padfoot. The godly one is out~"

Cutting the flow of magic, Remus returned his awareness to his ramshackle shed of a house. He _really_ needed a good job right now; his house was at the limit of what magic could keep together, and he really needed a new place. No... wait... "I have a job!" Remus cheered. "I can ask for anything, even money, as payment!"

Then another thought occurred to him. "How am I going to afford these ingredients _now_?"

As if answering his question, a paper airplane appeared out of nowhere and hit him in the head. Remus, now terribly sick of things being thrown at his head, crushed the plane when he caught it. Then, unfolding the crumpled paper, he read the message on it. " _You don't even know where they are or how much it will cost. It could be free, for all you know. And are you not a wizard?"_

Apparently, Nyarl had a sense of humor. Not one that Remus found funny, but a sense of humor nevertheless. Rolling his eyes, Remus returned his attention to his Crystal Ball. He had a list of things to locate.

* * *

Ironically, an Atlantean Glass, a supposedly mythical divination tool, turned out to be the easiest thing to locate and acquire _by far._ All he needed was one international portkey and fifty US Dollars. It turned out that, to muggles, the glass appeared as only a large ball of quartz with a metal band around its equator. To Remus, it looked like exactly that, except the image he saw through it didn't match what was on the other side of it, even factoring in the distortion. It looked like a novelty toy, to be honest, yet it was what Remus's divination told him that he needed.

As he walked out of the store, he felt compelled to look at the city's skyline through it. Holding it up to his face, he found that he had only one thing to say: "Atlant _a_. Atlan _tis._ Dear Merlin, we're stupid." He promptly put the quartz orb into his magical pocket and vowed never to speak of what he saw through it. It just wasn't worth it. As he left, he could have sworn that the sun was shining from the other direction.

Now back in the city of London, which was distinctly less insane than Atlantis, Remus set about trying to acquire the last of his ingredients. Several of them happened to be together in one location. The problem was that the location and the ingredients within were all owned by a hag, and a particularly crazy one at that. Remus thought hags ate children but assumed that he would be safe because of his age.

That was not the case. He still had the wounds from her fork in his side, right above where his liver was.

The wolf in him was, of course, quite pissed that something would _dare_ assume that it was higher than him on the food chain. He'd bit the hag in return. From there, everything went a bit fuzzy. At least he was leaving with the ingredients he needed. And she'd made him lunch, too. Without babies. Because that would be weird.

Yes, that was what had happened. Remus nodded to himself, assuring himself that he did not just rip a hag's heart out of her chest with his bare claws and eat it in front of her dying eyes. When that didn't work, he pulled out his ever-present chocolate and ate a few squares to get the taste of blood out of his mouth.

For the last thing he needed, the dementor bones, he apparated to the North Sea. There, he withdrew his broom from his pocket and took to the skies. With his divined directions assisting him, he flew until the chill of the wind (blocked by a warming charm) transformed into the unholy chill of the dementors.

In his chest, one of the permanent spells he'd done on himself activated, and like a sudden firestorm, heat blossomed in his chest. The soulfire was a warm, hopeful flame, one that drove away the chill with remarkable ease. It was, in essence, an internalized patronus for only himself.

But it also served as a beacon for the dementors. Their shrill cries pierced the air, letting Remus know that he would have company very soon. He touched down on the island and withdrew a shrunken trunk. Unshrunken and then engorged, it stood on its side now twice the height of a man. Remus opened the lid, revealing another, similarly massive trunk. That trunk contained another, which contained another, and so on — like a set of nesting dolls. Each trunk was expanded, which meant that each trunk, when the whole setup was closed, was further away from normal reality than the trunk above it.

Perched at the very edge of the island, facing inland, Remus looked at where the dementors were coming from. Readying his wand and straddling his broom, he prepared for the split second opening he needed.

Like a flood of darkness, dementors swarmed out at him. Remus twisted his wand and flicked it upwards. He did not say the spell most often said before an approaching swarm of dementors; he said a spell never before spoken in their presence: _"Accio_ closest dementor!"

The hapless monstrosity found itself unexpectedly tugged towards Remus, which was fine with it, and then shoved into a box, which was _not_ fine with it. It screamed its protest, which went unheard as the nesting trunks shut themselves.

Tapping the outermost trunk with his wand, he shrunk and lightened the whole ensemble, stuck it into his pocket, and then flew the fuck away from Azkaban. He wasn't crazy after all; who'd actually _want_ to stay there? His brain helpfully informed him that kidnapping a dementor was also something people would consider crazy. He ignored that observation.

When he returned to his home, he went instead to the nearby woods and into a cave he'd carved into the ground earlier. There, he conjured his patronus and set the shrunken trunk down. Moony released the dementor, where with the aid of his soulfire and his wolf patronus, was able to wrestle the dementor down to the ground and restrain it. Then, with his ethereal wolf helpfully sitting on the dementor's face, Remus pulled out a knife and started cutting.

By the time he'd gotten the necessary bones, the dementor was looking mighty sad. It was floppy, for lack of a better term, and pitifully folded itself into a corner of the cave when Remus let it go. Amortal beings like dementors couldn't die, no matter how much you broke them apart, and Remus didn't know if it would ever grow its bones back. He hardly cared if it remained boneless for eternity.

Finally, he was ready. Grabbing the Atlantean Glass, his ingredients, and a time-turner that the room of requirement had provided him with, Remus rewound the clock. It took the spacetime-bending properties of the Atlantean Glass to amplify the time-turner's range enough to get back before the winter solstice, but he made it. When he arrived, the time-turner shattered into a million pieces.

Using the ingredients, he brewed a pair of potions that would prepare him for what was about to come. Then, using chalk dust, he drew a large ritual pentagram embedded in a circle. At the northernmost point, he placed the dementor bones, while placing lit candles at the other four points. Then he levitated the Atlantean Glass above the pentagram's center and sat in the center.

At precisely thirty seconds before solar midnight, the point exactly halfway between dusk and dawn, Remus began chanting. His magic surged outwards, and when it struck the candles, their light increased. The glass orb gathered the light and focused it back down on Remus, but it also focused the darkness erupting from the dementor bones.

In his body, Remus's soulfire blazed brighter, while the two potions he'd drunk triggered a cascading activation of all the magics he's performed on his body in preparation for this. The magic lifted him up and spun him onto his back, while the clothes on his body dissolved into nothingness. On his skin, the runes he'd carved into his own flesh started glowing, only to suddenly turn absolutely black.

Solar midnight struck. Remus fell into a trance, only aware of his own body and soul, and the exquisite magic flowing through both. It was euphoric.

So lost in his trance, Remus didn't notice the figure appear nearby, nor did he notice the figure move towards him. "You're lucky, Wolf. You dove in head first, and danced exactly to my tune without ever really questioning me. It is fortunate that the magic you're performing happens to benefit you as well as me. Congratulations, my pawn, you're only one move away from being a queen."

Nyarlathotep raised his hand and _twisted_ space, time, and the magic that filled the air. The Atlantean glass warped, and then transformed into an eyeball made of living stone. It sank towards Remus's floating body, and Remus's body transformed into his hybrid form as it approached. The eye touched his chest, just between his pectoral muscles, and embedded itself within his flesh. Remus's anatomy adjusted itself accordingly, while his soul spread its magic into the eye, claiming it as part of himself. The chaos god then let his influence fade, allowing the ritual to take place as it should have, and then vanished.

Frost started spreading out from the circle, while the plants nearby started wilting. On Remus, frost formed a thin coating on his fur. By contrast, his bare skin turned pinkish and started steaming with incredible heat, protecting him from the extreme cold surrounding him. Under the frost layer, his brown fur turned completely white.

The spell ended, dropping Remus unceremoniously to the ground which broke him from the trance. He quickly looked down at himself. "Bloody hell..." Then he looked at the remains of the ritual. "Bloody buggering hell. I really went through with that?! I... Where am I? Let's see... I remember being in Atlanta, I looked through the glass... Everything's fuzzy after that."

He spotted his wand and a spare set of clothes off to the side. Unfolding the clothes, he realized that the dark gray robes weren't a set that he recognized. A note fell out of the folded clothes. _"The glass alone distorts your perception of reality. The eye restores it. I'm impressed with how efficiently you completed your task, even with your perception altered."_ Below the text, there was a surprisingly detailed, animated sketch of Remus. In his human form, the sketch pulled down the collar of his robe to expose his bare chest. It transformed and then repeated the action, this time exposing the eye.

Remus looked down and then twisted his head a bit to see what his snout had been blocking. The eye in his chest looked back up at him. "...That's creepy." As if acknowledging it was the trigger, there was a tiny jolt of pain in his chest. A sudden flood of information reached his brain; Remus found that he could see and feel with the eye as if it had always been a part of his body. "That's _really_ creepy."

Below the illustration of himself, more text appeared on the note. " _The eye of truth allows one to see things that are hidden from view or are normally imperceptible to mortals. It will not be confused by illusion, and will enhance your mind's eye. It can see souls. You are now ready to extract the soul fragment from Harry Potter."_

"Finally..."

* * *

Remus coated his head with a glamour, replacing frosted white hair with light brown, and glowing crimson eyes with a forest green. The frost hadn't left him since the ritual; even if he showered in scalding water, the frost returned within minutes. And though his skin was still warm to the touch, the air around him even the slightest distance away was frigid, enough that he could see his own breath, even indoors. The upside was that neither heat nor cold bothered him anymore, but his appearance as a frozen, albino man was a touch disturbing for him to look at — thus the glamour.

He glided towards Harry's home at number four, Privet drive, the robes Nyarl had left him billowing as he walked. Given the frosty air that surrounded him, had he put the hood up he would have been mistaken for a dementor. He didn't have his hood up, so any passers by would only attribute the child to the late December weather or the fact that the dark of the night had just barely started to retreat.

Remus sat on the pavement in front of number four and disillusioned himself. It was still just a tad too early for the general populace to be heading out to work, but there were a few lights shining from windows along the street already. None, however, came from the house he was interested in.

A loud crack split the silent morning air. Remus happened to be looking right at the spot where Albus Dumbledore materialized, wand already drawn and aloft. He marched towards the house, towards Remus, and flicked his wand at the still seated lycomorph.

The disillusionment charm broke instantly, but so did the glamours he'd applied not even ten minutes ago. Remus scrambled to his feet as his former headmaster closed the distance between them. Wand pointed at Remus's throat, Dumbledore said, "You have no business here, dark wizard."

By this point, Remus had his own wand in his hand, though he hadn't yet raised it towards the old man. That Dumbledore didn't recognize him didn't surprise him that much (since he hardly recognized himself in the mirror these days), but that Dumbledore would _immediately_ accuse him of being a dark wizard confused him... until he remembered that he technically _was_ a dark wizard now.

"The only dark magic I have ever performed is the magic Hogwarts freely offered me," Remus said in his defense. Was it true? Technically. But was it misleading? Definitely. A thought occurred to him; realizing that he could use Dumbledore's lack of recognition to his momentary advantage at getting some answers, Remus chose his next words carefully. "And, as a matter of fact, I do have business with the family inside. My good friend's son ran afoul with a particularly nasty wizard's curse. I'm just helping them out a bit, is all." Now, he raised his wand. "The question is, what are you doing here, headmaster? The only children in that house are far too young to be your students."

Dumbledore's wand lowered slightly. "As it happens, the son of a friend and former student of mine also lives in that house, though he is living in there with his aunt and uncle. I put up a set of security wards around their house since the boy's relatives are muggles, and you set them off not even a minute ago. I came to assure that he was safe."

"I find it hard to believe that you have Harry Potter's safety on your mind, Headmaster," Remus replied, "what, with the mind alteration and observation charms you placed on him and the Dursleys? I swore I purged them all from the house, at Mrs. Dursley's request. I even went so far as to take them all to St. Mungo's to get them fully examined. That you are here now implies that you have since replaced those charms, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's free hand moved up to adjust his glasses. Remus made the mistake of following the hand and looking Dumbledore in the eye. The legilimency probe slid into Remus's mind like a hot knife through butter and started flipping through Remus's memories.

His mind's eye as open as it was, however, Remus literally saw the attack coming and could see it digging in his mind. Remus's world went red. With his magic, he snatched the psychic probe and pulled. Dumbledore's mind, not expecting to be pulled, found itself yanked deeper into Remus's mind, and into his mindscape.

* * *

Dumbledore was cold, so very, very cold. The arctic winds howled around him, twisting through the frozen forest. He could hear the howl of a wolf, terrifyingly near yet out of sight and unlocatable. The headmaster trudged forwards through the snow and ice.

He didn't understand; this was supposed to be the dark wizard's mind, but no mindscape was like this. It was too solid, too real. No soul could support it.

The cold hurt, but try as he might, he couldn't escape it. There was an immense pressure pulling him down, sucking him in like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He looked around for anything that could be of use to him, a sign that he _wasn't_ actually out in the snow. Then he looked up. Instead of what he'd assumed was the moon, based on the light of the forest, was actually a giant, floating eye that was pointed directly at him.

" _Dumbledore..."_ The voice on the wind growled. _"You've shown your true colors. I see the blackness in your heart..."_

A snarl. That was all the warning Dumbledore had before a massive, white beast attacked him from behind, pinning him to the ground. Dumbledore struggled, but to no avail. The pain of the beast's claws was excruciating, but what was worse was its voice. It was a guttural thing that dug into his brain. _"Between Sirius's arrest and preparing to extract the fragment of Voldemort from Harry, I've been a bit too busy to deal with you, Headmaster. But you threatened my pack, you attacked my mind. I'm not going to wait to let Sirius maim you; I'm going to do it myself."_

The beast's claws pierced the man's abdomen, ripping it wide open. Then, with great ease, the beast burrowed into the open wound, shoving its massive frame into Dumbledore's relatively small body.

* * *

Remus found himself floating in the cloudy mists of Dumbledore's mind, having counterattacked Dumbledore's psychic probing by attacking him in the wolf spirit's forest. He found it remarkably easy with the eye of truth guiding his way. The wolfman followed his vision deeper and deeper into the headmaster's past.

Memories upon memories flickered past him, some pleasant, others not. He didn't have anything in particular that he was looking for, so he just grabbed the first memory he found, a brightly glowing one that showed a young girl. It was a happy one from the headmaster's youth, one from an idyllic time before the headmaster had regrets.

The lycomorph bit into the memory with his fangs, as if the memory were nothing more than one of the goat carcasses he'd eaten. It was delicious, and before he knew it, Remus had devoured the whole memory. But as he'd eaten, the entire mindscape shook with agony. Figuring that Dumbledore might be listening, Remus said, "Break the connection, headmaster, or I'll leave you without any happy memories." To emphasize that he wanted it to stop, Remus let go of the headmaster's mental projection, allowing him to withdraw it if he willed it. Sure enough, Remus found himself flung out of the headmaster's head while Dumbledore was flung out of his own.

* * *

Back in the real world, Remus adjusted his gaze to focus on the headmaster's beard, which was filling with red from the man's nose bleed, and then the man's wand, which was still aimed at him. "I can't let you go, now that you've been in my head," Dumbledore said. " _Oblivi-_ "

" _Flipendo,"_ Remus interrupted. Augmented by both his own actions and the manipulations of Nyarl, the amount of magic he could and did put into the knockback jinx intensified the spell to such an extent that it sounded like a cannon blast and sent Dumbledore hurtling all the way across the street and against the wall of the houses there.

Remus quickly dashed over to the man before he could right himself, and stuck his wand against Dumbledore's head. "Listen, you have about ten seconds to leave before the muggle's come investigating. This isn't over between us. And the next time you set foot anywhere near this street, I _will_ kill you. Do you understand?" So angry was Remus, that frost was quickly spreading across Dumbledore's face from where the lycomorph's wand made contact.

"Yes. I have many things to say to you too," Dumbledore said. With a crack, he disapparated from out of Remus's grip.

Hearing the approach of muggles, Remus disillusioned himself and crossed back over the street, thankful that he'd _only_ cast a knockback jinx and not something more destructive, like a fire spell. There was no evidence, meaning that the muggles would likely assume it was nothing but an unusually loud firecracker and think little more on the matter.

He walked up to Vernon, who was poking his head out his front door. The muggle man shivered as he approached. "Vernon," he whispered. "It's me, Remus. I'm invisible. Let me in, please."

Vernon's eyes went wide, taken by surprise by the invisible man. "Yes, but bloody hell, it's only 7:00 in the morning. Why are you here so early? And what was that boom?"

Remus slipped inside and dropped the disillusionment. "I'm here because I finally have a way to remove the parasite from Harry, and that boom was me scaring off a cruel wizard that followed me."

"A cruel wizard? Who?" Vernon asked.

"The man who abandoned Harry here, and the man who placed mind-altering curses on your family, Albus Dumbledore." Remus flicked his wand around and began dismantling everything he could find, only pausing to tell Vernon what he was doing.

It didn't take long for Petunia to come down, having heard the noise. Vernon helped fill her in as Remus worked. "Isn't there anything we can do to keep him out?"

The ex-werewolf bit his lip. "...Temporarily, yes. Absolutely. In the long term, though... I'll see if I can pull some strings to get something set up, but we really don't have many options."

"Well, why not? Surely you wizard folk protect your own homes." Vernon looked at Remus hopefully.

"We do, but that is part of the problem. _Wizard_ homes can be protected, but muggle homes can only be warded if they are in a wizarding community, where the only nonmagical people that might see it already know about magic. If I set up a defensive ward, and your angry neighbor stomped over and triggered it, there would be a _lot_ of questions, ones that would see me thrown in jail." Remus turned thoughtful, realizing how little of a punishment that would be for him at the moment, considering he was practically immune to the dementors.

He shook his head. "Anyway, there are a few things I can do. However, they are all either temporary, prohibitively expensive in material costs alone, highly disruptive to your lives, or would require me to become basically your live-in bodyguard."

"Let's start with the temporary things," Petunia said. "We can do a little bit more later, once we have breathing room."

Remus agreed. For them, he set up an anti-apparition ward, an anti-portkey ward (only blocking inbound travel), an anti-scrying ward (keyed to let only him through), a hostility-based proximity alarm, and a confundus ward triggered by the proximity alarm. The alarms were also set to make a loud noise inside the house so that they could activate the portkeys Remus gave them. "None of this will last forever," Remus said. "I'll have to come back and renew it. But you won't mind me popping in once or twice a month for a few minutes at a time, will you?"

"Of course not," Vernon said. "You're going out of your way to protect us."

Warding done, Remus finally got to the very reason he'd come: purging Harry of the fragment of Voldemort's soul. Worry filled Remus's heart; supposedly, he'd done all he could to protect himself from being transformed into a dementor, but he wasn't entirely certain it would work.

He decided to do it in the backyard; the Dursleys were instructed to pull Harry in the moment the soul fragment was out of Harry's body ("When the lights end," Remus said) and then shut the door. If Remus didn't change, they could let him back in. Otherwise, they were to wait inside and block the doors until the cold and misery went away.

Then, with Harry at his wand tip, Remus incanted in an inhuman language. The toddler before him screamed, but not as loudly as the shard of soul attached to Remus's wand. Lifting the glowing crescent up to his mouth, Remus inhaled it.

He swallowed.

The Dursleys snatched Harry away and shut the door.

Remus waited. Other than an extremely pleasant taste in his mouth, nothing had happened. He was about to give the "all clear," when suddenly, frost exploded out of him, even as raw power surged through his magical core. He felt electrified, more alive than he'd ever felt before (and that was saying something). Even if only a tiny fragment, the raw power contained within Voldemort's soul was staggering and utterly intoxicating.

Remus blacked out.

* * *

Twenty-five miles away, deep underground, in a hall filled with identical orbs, one orb in particular shook. Then, with a sound like the crack of a gun, it shattered into a million pieces.


	5. An Outer God's Domain

A tentacle poked the sleeping form of Remus Lupin. **"Hey, wake up!"**

Remus stirred, then groaned. "Ugh, what happened?"

" **You ate part of a soul and survived unharmed. Not many mortals can say they've done that. Though, you aren't really mortal anymore,"** the tentacle-covered creature said.

Remus stared at it. It had a _lot_ of tentacles... and eyes... and mouths... and just about every other body part that could possibly exist on any animal at all. Really, it was just a gargantuan, bulging mass of flesh. It was also sort of familiar to him. He squinted. "Nyarl?"

" **Nyarlathotep, actually,"** the outer god corrected. **"But you already knew that."**

"Hey, what do you mean, 'not really mortal anymore'?" Remus inquired hesitantly.

" **Exactly that. Between what I did to you and what you did to yourself, you ascended. Not to godhood, mind you, but you're definitely above a mere human now. Any one of those things on their own, and you wouldn't have done it. Together, however..."** Nyarlathotep motioned to the space around them with a wing and three tentacles. **"You come here."**

The world around him looked like a forest, but of obsidian-black trees, lit by a crimson sky. "Where are we?"

" **Whatever you're seeing, that's just your mind's first interpretation of it. As you get stronger and your mind becomes accustomed to this place, you'll start seeing it for what it really is, understand? This is, for lack of a better term that you'd understand, the in-between. It is your new home."**

Remus's head whipped back and forth. "What? No! I can't stay here, I have to go back!"

A tentacle pressed itself against Remus's cheek, calming him down. **"Remus Lupin, I said** _ **home**_ **, not** _ **prison**_ **. You may come and go as you wish; that is your choice."** The same tentacle twirled itself around Remus and picked him up, depositing him on his feet. **"Walk with me.**

" **The in-between connects every point in space and time in the multiverse. From here, you can access everything that is, was, will be, won't be, can't be, isn't, doesn't, and shouldn't. You can go to places where the concepts of geometry, time, location, existence, communication, or any other abstract concept you can or can't imagine does or doesn't exist."** One of the outer god's countless eyes gazed at Remus's face. **"I see that you are confused. Allow me to** _ **vastly**_ **oversimplify it. Imagine a work of fiction; you can find a real version of it here, in one of the infinite worlds. You can also find any crossover of it with any other work."**

A tall, cloaked figure walked between them, going the opposite direction. "Pardon me," it said in an extremely raspy voice. With a start, Remus realized that the figure was a dementor.

" **Yes, angels, demons, dementors, djinns, phoenixes, and all sorts of other immortal beings live here, coming and going as they please,"** Nyarlathotep said. He pointed, this time with a finger. **"See that small tree? That is your mind's representation of your home dimension. You will find, if you examine it, that you can see all the possible pasts and futures involved with it."**

"Why is it so much smaller than the others?" Remus asked.

" **Because it is younger. I broke off a branch from another world-tree and planted it there. Any time traveler in your old tree would find that they could not go forwards beyond a certain date in that timeline; in your current one, they cannot go back before that same date,"** Nyarl explained. **"You and anyone you take with you, of course, being the exceptions. Now, I believe time travel might be a little difficult for you at the moment, though you should be able to access alternate versions of your present with ease. I also believe you can easily access your local afterlife variants, as well as any pocket dimensions attached to your timeline. Understand?"**

"So, basically, I can move side to side within my own branch, but not up or down?" Remus summarized, making some assumptions based on what he was seeing.

Nyarl patted him on the back. **"Exactly, although I think you'll find even that quite exhausting right now. You need to eat souls to gain this sort of strength, and currently, you've eaten only one sixty-fourth of Voldemort's soul, the smallest piece in fact. And speaking of that soul piece, you finished my third task for you. So, what would you like as your payment? There will be other opportunities for work in the future, so pick what you need** _ **now**_ **."**

Remus thought. The answer came to him easily. "You told me that my payments needed to be selfish, right? Well then, I want power and knowledge. I want to be able to protect the people I care about."

" **Good. I will return you to the place and time you left to come here, the morning of December twenty-second, 1981. Your past-self exits the room of requirement on the evening of January first, 1982. If you return to that room after that date, you will find it stocked with books and tools that you didn't have access to before. You will also find that you have the ability to slow your own passage through time to a small degree, allowing you to extend the time you have in the room. And lastly, if you ask it, you should find a larger portion of Voldemort's soul hidden within the room itself."** Nyarlathotep chuckled (screeched-shrieked-wailed) and added, **"Do try and savor it. Souls taste so much better if you** _ **chew**_ **first."**

"I'll take that into consideration," Remus replied, honestly shocked that he _wasn't_ lying when he said that. He figured that if there was any soul worth eating, it was Voldemort's.

" **Good. Now, off you go my wonderful little employee."**

* * *

Remus awoke with a gasp, sitting upright in an instant. He could feel his heart beating in his chest, drumming in his ears louder than ever before. Not even his former werewolf transformations made him hear his own heart that loudly.

He looked around. The windows of the house had a thick layer of frost on them, as did the garden plants, but that was about the extent of the damage. A wave of his wand and a quick warming charm later, and even that was gone.

Through the glass door, he could see the Dursleys watching him, a fussy Harry and Dudley in each of their arms. He smiled and waved. "I'm fine. It worked."

"That... was horrid," Vernon said as Moony stepped inside. "The cold... and that sense of hopelessness..."

Moony, of course, knew exactly what that was. "Dementor exposure. The curse I used gave me a dementor's powers, but as you can see, this is the cost. Luckily, there's an antidote: chocolate. It'll warm you up faster than hot tea by the fire, though that's good too."

The family raided their chocolate supply and started a fire. Remus made sure to keep his magical aura as tightly bound as he could so that the chill didn't return. Without the dementor-chill, without the whispers of Dumbledore's spells, and without the radiant evil of the soul fragment, the Dursley household was the most pleasant it had been in a while.

After a hearty breakfast, courtesy of Petunia, Remus gave them some advice. "Keep diaries and reread them often. We're defending against someone who can alter your mind and memories, so the best defense is leaving yourselves evidence that can be used to find yourself again. Get to know each other better, get intimate with each other. Learn each other's little nuances so that you can tell when they change."

Vernon chuckled. "You know, that almost sounds like marriage advice." He looked at his wife with the eyes of someone who was comfortably, happily in love. "I wouldn't mind a little more intimacy."

Petunia cracked a wry grin. "That sounds like _magic."_

Remus deliberately averted his gaze from the couple and focused on the boys. Unlike the first time he had come to see Harry, where Dudley was keeping his distance, now the two boys were practically atop each other as they played. Remus flicked his wand, animating the various plush toys scattered around the room. He made the plushy toys taunt the boys into chasing them; the boys obliged, toddling as fast as their chubby legs could carry them.

Moony smiled.

* * *

Remus had come to the Dursley household many times over the course days he spent waiting for his past self to emerge from the room of requirement. He found himself to be quickly becoming a close friend to Vernon and Petunia. Vernon was a practical man who loved efficiency and being in charge; it was a stark contrast to James and Sirius, but Remus found himself enjoying the down-to-earth man's company. As for Petunia, she struck Remus as the Slytherin version of her little sister — whereas Lily was like a hammer, Petunia was a sword.

The wizard also found himself dragged to one of the neighborhood's book club meetings, which was really a gossip party in everything but name. He was passed around and displayed like a trophy that Petunia had collected, even if she called him her friend. It would have been a bit insulting and uncomfortable had Remus not enjoyed being at the center of attention, but as it was, Remus loved it.

One of the women had brushed up against him and discovered his unusually high body heat. Once he'd convinced her and the rest of the room that no, he did not have a fever, he suddenly found the women being much more touchy-feely than before, especially the women he'd originally pegged as the most uptight.

To his surprise, he found a familiar face in the crowd. "Sorry I'm late," she'd announced as she shuffled into the room.

"Arabella? Arabella Figg?" Remus asked.

"Remus Lupin? It's been a while," she said, making her way towards him. She looked him over, her eyes taking in the slightly tight muggle clothes he wore. "I didn't expect to see you here. You are looking much better than the last time I saw you."

"You two know each other?" Petunia asked.

"As acquaintances, yes," Remus replied. "Arabella and I belonged to the same small organization, the one Lily also belonged to. It's not something I really want to talk about." Looking back at Mrs. Figg, he said, "I didn't realize you lived out here."

"Oh, I only moved here a few weeks ago," she replied. "I'm in number eight."

Remus's eyes narrowed. With Dumbledore being the way he was, he had no doubt that the squib was a spy for him, possibly not even willingly. The lights in the house flickered, while the cold and hopelessness oozed out of Remus's body. "Excuse me." He made his leave.

The sudden change of atmosphere killed the gossip party, leaving several of the guests alternating between confused glances between each other and curious stares at Arabella. Petunia, knowing a few more details, eyed Arabella with suspicion. As for Mrs. Figg, she felt that she was no longer welcome at today's book club meeting, and made her own exit.

* * *

Remus sat at the edge of his own property, waiting for his past self to come out. Past-Remus had just arrived home, meaning that he didn't have long to wait before past-Remus apparated away to gather the ingredients he'd needed. The crack of displaced air signaled his past's departure and gave him the all-clear.

Remus popped inside for only a minute, needing only to grab the mail his past-self had neglected to take with him. He flipped through the letters quickly. Three were Christmas cards, five were from people who'd been successfully cured of lycanthropy, one was a positive response from the DMLE regarding the letter he'd sent them about Dumbledore's behavior, and the last was a notification from Gringotts saying that the Potter will had _finally_ been unsealed and enacted and that he'd received a small portion of the Potter fortune.

In regards to that last one, the Potters weren't _that_ rich of a wizarding family and Remus hadn't gotten that much of what money they did have; it would pay the bills for a while, at least. To be honest, he was glad that they hadn't left him more; Harry deserved every knut of that little fortune.

The white-haired man wrote out a quick reply to each that needed it. He apparated to Diagon Alley, dropped the letters in the post box (since he didn't have an owl of his own at the moment), and then apparated again, appearing at the edge of Hogwart's wards.

He had to hide from Filch's cat once as he snuck in, but other than that, he made it into the castle for the second time with remarkable ease. Having only done it once before, and then only accidentally, Remus paced the length of hallway where the room was hidden, exactly retracing his steps from a month ago. Sure enough, the room opened for him.

This time, he found not a few books, but a virtual mountain of them. There were other things too, such as a wide selection of magical and physical exercise equipment, a pool, a kitchen, a bedroom — really, everything he needed to live there and maximize his training time.

But, the thing that drew his attention the most was a diadem sitting on a table near the door, bearing the crest of Ravenclaw. That it was Ravenclaw's lost diadem didn't attract his attention so much as what Remus could see in it with the exposed eye on his chest. It was a soul fragment from Voldemort, one twice as large as the one he'd extracted from Harry.

Remus didn't even hesitate as he called upon the vile magic to help him devour the soul fragment. It was exquisitely delicious and gave him a rush of pure power. As he chewed it up, he could see fragments of Voldemort's memories — not whole memories, but flashes of names, faces, emotions, and more, but never anything concrete.

The room snatched the diadem away from Remus the moment he had purified it as if it was afraid that he'd taint it again. He hadn't planned on anything of the sort, but Remus figured that he didn't mind so long as the room didn't throw books at him.

He settled into a routine almost immediately after. It took him a bit of work, but he eventually managed to slow his own passage through time, as Nyarl had said he could. It wasn't nearly as impressive as he'd hoped, squeezing only two extra hours out of every twenty-four; by comparison, a standard time turner could go back six hours every twelve. The upshot, however, was that there was no risk of world-ending paradox.

Following his acquisition of extra time, his schedule broke down like this: mornings were reserved for exercising his body and magic, midday ways for reading, afternoons were for practicing what he'd read, and evenings were for scrying and astral projection. There were only a few things he was interested in: Wormtail's location, the location of Voldemort's other soul fragments, Dumbledore's whereabouts, the Dursleys, and Sirius Black. He scryed the Dursleys to check up on them and Harry, and he used astral projection to talk to them and his Azkaban-bound friend.

* * *

"And that's what's happened so far," Remus told his fellow Marauder as he concluded his story.

Sirius leaned back against the wall of his cell. "Remus, if you weren't you, I wouldn't believe you at all. As it is, I don't believe you, but I believe you believe yourself. As such, I demand proof."

"Proof? Of what?"

Sirius gestured his hands around wildly. "I don't know. All of it."

Remus pondered the challenge. "Well, I think the boneless dementor is still stuck in that hole I dug. And I'm pretty certain I could get Nyarl to prove himself to you if I asked him the right way."

"You're insane," Sirius deadpanned.

Moony shrugged. "Lily once said that the whole world was mad. I'm not debating you two on that. Just... Maybe I'm letting it out a bit more than usual?"

"You are," Padfoot agreed. "Welcome to Wonderland, Moony; it's time for tea. Sit down, take a load off. Let us revel in our madness together."

Moony held up an imaginary teacup. "Cheers." He drank the imaginary tea.

"So, what else is new in the land of the free?"

Again, Remus shrugged, though this time he had a goofy grin on his face. "I wouldn't know; I'm not an American. In the land of the _marginally oppressed_ , however, I seem to have become the object of much interest among the lonely housewives of Surrey."

Sirius gave him a thumbs up. A lecherous smirk spread across his face. "Way to go, Moony. Woo the hot mums with your animalistic charms. Show them the _wild_ their _domestic_ husbands can't give them."

As any university-aged man with a magically augmented libido would, Remus found himself enjoying the idea. Not that it was in any way proper or feasible, but the idea of sleeping with the various married women was abstractly tantalizing. He smiled. "I do like your thinking, Sirius Black."

* * *

For a while, Remus got away with acting as he had before he'd removed the horcrux from Harry's head, from before that conversation with Nyarlathotep in the in-between. Nothing had outwardly changed for him; he felt basically the same - fundamentally human.

But he couldn't pretend now, not with half of his arm missing. It didn't hurt, having had his limb blown off, but perhaps that made it all the worse. He'd been trying to combine two spells that didn't normally go together, and had underestimated how explosive the reaction would be. In the end, it wasn't the severed limb that made him question his humanity, but the fact that he was quickly regrowing the limb automatically. Humans didn't do that.

"Nyarlathotep..." he murmured.

"You called?" Remus spun. There, in the room with him, was the outer god.

"Why?" That was all he could articulate. There were so many questions buzzing through his head, fighting to get out, that the only word he could say was the one word they had in common. Then something came to mind that helped him put his feelings to words. "You've been leading me on, pointing me down a path. Before I knew it, I'm halfway down with no way up. So what the hell do you want with me?"

"Many things. You are correct in your assumption that I am leading you 'down,' meaning away from humanity. And you are right that there's no longer a path back up. But there's not just one path before you. There are billions of possible futures, of which I would like you to end up in any one of them. There are billions more that aren't on the path I set for you, but don't prevent you from reaching one of my goals if you come back later, or from stumbling on it by yourself. And then there are billions of futures where you become something else entirely. To use a metaphor, I am the wind in your sails, but the ship is yours, Captain Remus."

"And what are those futures you want like for me?" Remus asked.

The outer god's human disguise smiled. "Pleasant, but busy."

After a moment of the god not speaking, Remus asked, "Is that it?"

"How else do you want me to summarize a billion futures?" the god countered. "I may be quintillions of years old, but even I don't want to spend a hundred billion years explaining it all to you."


End file.
